[EVENT] Memory Tapes

[vrdr_mods]

On the morning of November 21st, denizens in the Velvet Room will awake to a message on their phones or by their bedsides in an envelope. Perhaps even on their computer screens.

Greetings! If you've received this message, then you've been selected as a participant in a new activity to strengthen bonds within this community.

In order to facilitate connections with your fellow residents, we advise you to watch this video. Watch it and return the tape to its rightful owner. If you lacked the means to watch VHS tapes before, we have provided you with the necessary equipment.

Failure to do so may put your own memories at risk. Do not be selfish, lest you find yourself struggling to recall crucial moments of your life. You have no way of knowing which memories have been shared, so ask yourself if it is worth the risk to selfishly hoard another's secrets.

They will soon find a VHS tape, with a case that gives off a soft, blue glow to symbolize its importance. If they lack a TV or VCR, they will find one in their living space.

What they do is up to them, but they should heed the warning, if they value their own memories.


[For links to characters' memories, please see this post in the OOC comm. Have fun!]

Comments

[linkclickakira]

The shift is subtle—so subtle, it could be mistaken for nothing at all. He twirls one of the darts idly between his fingers, his usual confidence still present but no longer as sharp-edged.

He steps up to the board, focusing his gaze on the target. His arm draws back with practiced ease, the dart poised between his fingers. For just a moment, the space between them feels heavier.

And then he speaks.

“Do you work for Shido?”

The words leave him with an unsettling calm, delivered so casually it takes a moment for their weight to settle. He releases the dart in sync with the question, the motion fluid and deliberate. It sails through the air and thunks against the dartboard, landing squarely on a triple 19.

[mirrorkechi]

He glances at Kira, sensing something shift but not quite sure why…
And then he asks his question.
Oh
Of course.
Akechi straightens up a bit and crosses his arms.

“…Unfortunately yes.” He answers, because what’s the point of secrets here when there’s common factors across the multiverse or whatever.
But, because he feels the need to clarify, he adds, “Just me. My teammates aren’t involved with him.” He frowns, glaring at a spot on the wall like it might burst into flames from his look alone. Sure he works for Shido but he’s rather make it clear he isn’t happy about it.
Even if he did get himself stuck…

[willowandoak]

"You going after your mom's murderer." His voice is soft and apologetic, but he doesn't sound particularly disturbed. She did tell him about it a long time ago, after all, and he's not surprised by anything new that he saw.

[herewardbound]

"If it's any consolation, I'm kind of used to it. After Maruki's palace collapsed, I woke up in a place a little like this one. Shit like this happened all the time, at this point someone I know shows up in my dreams or memories and I just kind of... sigh and get on with it."

He shrugged, and slid his own tape across the table. "You're not burdening anyone, though. This isn't something you did."

[linkclickakira]

He keeps staring ahead at the dartboard, eyes holding a distinct sort of grievance that can only be described as a heavy burden overcoming his otherwise cheerful demeanour.

For a moment he pauses as he fiddles with the darts, the morning sun distinctly peaking in from the windows mounted at the side as his face pulls into a visage of indifference. Like a shrug being thrown when he can fill in the gaps of Mockingbird's words.

"Teammates, huh?" His voice remains even with a slight lilt of curiosity. Hannei...Futaba. "Like I said- I am surprised you have reached a point where you can call them that too. "

"Shido's a common case. I know you prefer working alone with him." Distinctly, he shifts away from him- now aiming again at the dartboard. "I get that- to some degree."

Triple 18.

[tricksterviolet]

Ah, right, Phoenix had been somewhere else before all of this, hadn't he? It would make sense he's used to this kind of thing then.

But she doesn't manage to say anything about that before Phoenix brings up her own part in the tape. Honestly, she's not even sure what memory it is, but it sounds like this one was a bit less cheerful than she would have liked.

She can feel herself coming up with all sorts of 'ifs' and 'buts' to Phoenix's statement, but she struggles to land on just one to say.

"...There are a lot of things I'm responsible for, Phoenix-san. I don't know which memory you got, but... there's a good chance that what happened came down to my weakness."

[lostgemini]

Kou staunchly ignores Maruki's words, continuing onward, deeper into the maze. There's no arguing with this man, not when he's so adamant about casting the blame on Kou for this situation- as if that motherfucker hadn't lured him here with the puppeted corpse of his brother. Did he really expect Kou to react well to that? To sit down and let that piece of shit dig through his brain? To answer his questions with a smile on his face?

As fucking if. It's clear Maruki's decided that Kou's in the wrong for not happily accepting what he deems 'treatment'. Lost memories? Any 'memory' Maruki would have of that would be stolen in the first place, and Kou's not in any hurry to give him more ammunition than he already has. The idea alone that he has Kou's tape, that he was able to view it... it makes him want to scream.

Kou growls as the labyrinth writhes and changes around him, the sterile walls replaced with vines and branches, then mossy walls.

"If you're trying to lull me into a false sense of security," he hisses, "you're much, much too late for that."

And as if in response to his words, the walls begin to shift much more violently.

Kou's forced, herded into whatever directions the maze desires, regardless of his own attempts to break out, like he's fucking cattle. The walls ripple and writhe, as if alive, and once again, Kou has no choice but to play along to Maruki's madness.

His breath catches when he comes face to face with a mirror.

Unwilling to play along, he tries to turn back, but it's no use- the walls close in around him, forcing him closer and closer to the mirror. A tentacle pushes him away when he tries to push back, forcefully twisting him around to face the rippling surface of the mirror.

For the most part, it's dark, but here and there, he swears he sees-

"What the fuck is this," he growls lowly. "What are you trying to do, huh?"

-a hint of something. It's- it's himself-? Or is it-

Flickers of a smile, of an scchool uniform/i>, beige with a striped tie, black gloves, meticulous, impeccable, then a winter coat, a checkered scarf- a Metaverse outfit that's red and black, or is it blue and black? A black mask with red visors, a menacing smile-

Unease crops up in his throat. He masks it by looking up at the ceiling, glaring.

"Answer me!"

[takutomaruki]

I don't know, Maruki almost wants to say as he watches Kou approach the mirror- stuck between either that or having to face the wrath of a particularly impatient Azathoth who had more than just a mind of its own when fuelled by Maruki's greatest desire.

When Kou growled at him, demanded answers, Maruki let out a quiet sigh—almost resigned but not quite apologetic.

“It’s what it looks like,” he answered softly, as if that alone would suffice, though he knew it wouldn’t. His gaze, tired but deliberate, lingered on the screen as the mirror’s surface stilled. “You’re seeing a mirror, Corvus-san. That’s all it is.”

Maruki swallowed the creeping dread curling at the edges of his thoughts, forcing himself to sound clinical, detached.

“You know,” he continued, his tone shifting to something quieter, almost reflective, “mirrors are a very common manifestation in cases like this. Especially with people—young people—who find themselves weighed down by expectations. By the roles placed on them. Sometimes those roles are chosen, and sometimes… they’re thrust upon us.”

He paused for a moment, letting the words hang in the space between them. He knew that wouldn't sit well with Kou—not with the agitation clear in his voice and posture—but he pressed on gently.

“This is the regarding the title of the detective prince...isn't it? The pressures, the expectations—all of it played a significant role in shaping who you are. And from what I understand of Akechi, those same expectations seemed to follow him as well. As if his life was caught in a perpetual spotlight, scrutinized by anyone who cared to look. It doesn’t take much for an identity to fracture under that kind of weight.”

Maruki’s voice softened further, thoughtful as he considered the phantom images Kou had glimpsed. The school uniforms, the masked visors, the shifting Metaverse outfits… Kou’s ties to this other Akechi—and to Akira—ran deeper than he’d initially realized.

“The mirror doesn’t lie, Corvus. It shows you what’s already there—beneath the surface.”

And then he paused again, leaning back slightly in his chair as he glanced back at the monitor. Maruki’s gaze was calm, yet there was something piercing in the way his voice dropped just slightly lower, as if reaching for something deeper.

“What do you see when you look at yourself? I mean… truly see?”

The mirror’s surface rippled once, then stilled.

And for a split second—a heartbeat—the reflection that stared back at him was something grotesque.

A dark, eldritch silhoutte watched Kou- formless as it loomed within the glass. Green-black tendrils writhed beneath its skin like living veins, coiling and stretching from its limbs as though trying to pull it apart. It's face—its face—was obscured by shadow, its eyes glowing with the same sickly golden light that burned within Maruki’s own.

The vision twisted violently, warping further, until—

It returned back to the original image. The one that had sent Kou reeling in the first place.

Maruki looks up from his monitor and waits- letting the silence hang without even noticing that detail. "Well?"

2

[linkclickakira]

Well, the tape he recieved checked off all boxes of not only being cryptic, mysterious but also somehow twisting the knife that nestled in his chest. That Ren looked so unsure- confused, proppelled by something more than just the expectation of continuing their...infiltration. Whatever that meant. Glitch had mentioned palaces and somehow, the whole phantom thief sthick that his world didn't possess was closely linked to it.

He dived into the tape of course.

Weaved through its detail. The jazz-jin. The two were close...really close. This Akechi resembled the Akechi he knew in almost all timelines- cutthroat and to the point. Bitter but reasonable. And for some reason the Ren (which also narrowed down that this was a Ren- not an Akira which wasn't a helpful statistic) didn't want to go through with the infiltration but chose to stick around Akechi. As if making up for lost time.
It felt too damn familiar.

Who was he supposed to deliver the tape too? The Akechi or the Ren?

The question quickly answers itself the moment the Akechi gets up and turns away which leaves Akira, now floating within the hidden signals that made the tape what they are but unlike how he could usually interact with the environment now he was just...a ghost. Fucking Igor.
When Akechi turned, the scene around the Ren darkened as if the spotlights shining on a particular person had turned off- indicating the person left the main scene.

So an Akechi.

Conflicted. Confused. Worried. Each twitch on his face could be easily read through. He read him like a fucking book.

Well. There's only one way to resolve this issue.

=====

Leblanc.

He...didn't want to step foot here. The place held too many fresh memories, too many variables and spirals that went out of control. It was something that baralled right through him, nearly making him shake to the core.

But he needed to return this tape to Akechi. Whoever he was.

If his hands stopped fucking shaking that is.

He grits his teeth and decides to tuck the tape back in his bag, zips it and tosses it across the counter before vaulting over it. Maybe a part of him is hoping there's a Sojiro here who will immediately scold him for that but of course...no one's here. Its just 9 am but it was also the perfect time to look through all the Akechis and Rens and Akiras who walked out of here in their infinite supply of attic rooms. Kira never personally trusted it nor does he think he ever will.

He turns around and immediately grabs a jar of Cuban coffee beans and gets to work.

Now...to access the playground.

[seekerofjustice]

When Dove first watched this particular tape, he was frozen in place for it. His eyes were glued to the screen, drawn in by something almost familiar, and yet so so different than anything he knows.

So many things he had to force himself to process, to remember, to understand. Every moment was associated with a whirlwind of an emotion, and by the end of it... well, Dove would never admit it, but he was shaken wreck. Too much emotion he struggles to process in his current state.

But at the end of it all, he manages to compose himself after a period of time... and he finally comes to the conclusion that his heart aches for this version of Ren-- Akira. For the other version of himself.

He stares almost blankly at the tape he retrieves from the VHS, and realizes he needs to return it. Of course he does, that's the point of this event. But... with such a memory... how can he even begin to approach them about this?

Especially when thinking about it reminds him of all those strange feelings, and the eerie nostalgia that lies beneath the surface?

--

When Dove arrives to Leblanc, he figures he has a decent idea of what to expect. He drops by rather frequently to check on Ren, and he oftentimes sees Frog or Trickster in the background behind the counter.

However, he did not expect to see Kira behind the counter. The surprise on his face is actually more palpable than he realizes as he steps through the door.

"Good morning, Kira. I'm a bit surprised, I wasn't expecting to see you here so early in the day."

Dove smiles to him as he says that, but at the same time he has this nagging feeling...

[mirrorkechi]

“…is it really that surprising?” He raises a brow, and does his best not to flinch when both of his persona loudly proclaim YES IT IS.
… okay fine maybe it is but you don’t have to call him out on this!
He shakes his head. “…well, I won’t deny being… stubborn… in my youth, but I’ve come to realize I can’t achieve my goal on my own. Not in the way I want to anyhow. They’re willing to help me for some reason, and I’m not in a position to deny the help” frankly he suspects had he not had the backup of Hannei and Futaba he’d be in a lot more dangerous of a situation with Shido.
… and from How Kira is acting he suspects he might be correct in that assumption.

“… nobody else gets harmed but me if I’m the only one working under him” Akechi looks away, focusing on the spot on the wall again. “Teammates offer you support which is a benefit but they can also be a hinderance since you have to look out for them in turn, some things aren’t worth the risk.” He shrugs, and ignores Robin Hood’s disappointed glare at trying to dismiss that he may or may not care for these people and how having a small group to support him has saved his ass more often than he’d like to admit.
Shut up.

[lostgemini]

"Manifestat- oh, fuck off," Kou snaps, fists clenching and unclenching in the absence of anything else, "don't act like you're not the one forcing this shit on me!"

He hates the way Maruki talks- that soft, clinical voice, talking down to Kou. As if he has all the answers, as if he knows what's best- like his fucking Palace isn't a whole fucking representation of why he doesn't know shit. He's delusional as always, and instead of Sumire-

-it's Kou who's his test subject this time.

Too fucking bad for him that Kou already knows what his goal is- and he's not playing along.

"Stop talking as if you know anything!" he snaps at the ceiling with a sneer. "You don't know shit about me or my brother! You won't break me like you broke Sumire! This mirror-" he spits, "-you're just manipulating what you want me to see, aren't you?!"

He says it- he believes it, but he can't help the way his stomach twists at every image, the way his hands shake-

and Maruki just keeps blabbing. It makes Kou want to tear his hair out, but just then, the mirror stills.

Something unfathomable stares back at him. Something horrible, with tentacles shifting beneath its skin, as if trying to destroy the image from the inside out. A shadowed face, but if Kou squints, he can make out an almost-smile, golden eyes staring back at him like a Shadow's, expression so familiar-

Kou feels very, very cold all of a sudden, instinctively taking a step back as bile rises in his throat at the twisted image staring back at him.

"Stop-" he says, gritting his teeth, but all that happens is his back hitting the living, writhing wall, which immediately pushes him forward again, towards the mirror. He tries to twist his head away, but it's like the mirror shifts with him, with his eyes-

The ripple is back. Flashes of himself, Goro, himself Goro himself both at once bloody wounded ripped outfit corpselike Goro GorohimselfGoroGorohimselfGoroGoro-

"Enough!" He cries out, ripping his sword from his back with a shout, and rushes towards the mirror. The bloodied image of Goro laughs back at him as he brings down his weapon with a cry, intent on ending this madness.

[linkclickakira]

Akira throws a pointed glance at Mockingbird and his words. He's...softer than the others. Not a particularly bad thing of course- if anything its a good counterbalance against some of the other doppels here but its safe to say a lot has happened for all the wrong reasons. He's paranoid.

"Nobody else gets harmed but me."

"You say that," Akira tries to say but then lets the Akechi take his course anyway. There it was- the worry and the resentment. The fact that you know you could never truly belong. "...I am not going to dictate how you are going to approach this situation but sooner or later you will have to make a choice. Whether its for Hannei, or your Futaba or...me."

He throws the damn dart at the board with just the slight bit of agitation that its tail end jitters at the end.

"My Akechi did, in the second timeline- when I managed to avoid meddling into Wakaba's case and get further into the damn conspiracy..." he curls his fist before casually putting it back in his pocket. Appear as nonchalant as you can. "You want to guess what happened? Spoilers: its morbid."

[herewardbound]

He contemplated that, for a moment. Let it hang in the air between them while he formulated a response.

"Sumire, you know a bit about my past. A bit more, now, I think, though I don't know exactly what it is you saw. How do you think you'd respond if someone called me 'weak'?"

[linkclickakira]

He runs his fingers over the edge of the little jar- watching the little scribble which says Cuban Coffee Beans which has to be impicably written by Sojiro himself. Staying there for a moment, his stomach feels heavy as he distinctly remembers the day before coming to this place. His nail rams into the hard edge of the lid before he slowly unscrews it- his gaze landing forlornly on the edge of the counter that he doesn't even hear the person who stepped into the tranquil peace of the cafe.

His eyes shoot up at the welcome, still widened as he regards the Akechi. That's- "Dove." Addressing him with his codename, he poses him a hesitant smile as he distinctly remembers their messy meeting at the carousel of Halloween. That Halloween fucking sucked by the way. "Morning."

He releases a yawn from his lips as he poses a small smile at him- returning Akechi's own. His chest feels heavy still- as if this is fate playing with his feelings. Like it always seemed to do. "Yeah trust me, me neither," he chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck to get rid of his own sheepiness. "Usually don't even get enough sleep to wake up at 8 of all places but," his head jostles side to side, singing along- "But I figured I should grace this place with my impeccable coffee eventually."

And I am not totally not scratching out parts of any suspicious behaviour that you might have exhibited to the point where I could trust you with the tape because I don't want to give it to the wrong one.

"You in a rush or anything?"

Tw: uhh corpse?

[takutomaruki]

“Broke Sumire?” Maruki murmured quietly, tilting his head as if considering the accusation. Even from behind the wall of glowing monitors, his calm demeanor was undeterred—though faint traces of something sharper flickered in his gaze. “I did no such thing to her.”

To Kou, that likely meant nothing. It was clear—unmistakably clear—that in Kou’s mind, Maruki had already been cast as the villain of this particular narrative. A shallow interpretation, one steeped in anger, frustration, and fear. Maruki’s lips twitched, the slightest tremor of annoyance threatening to crack his carefully maintained poise. So narrow-minded. Jumping to conclusions without stopping to truly see the bigger picture.

But something else caught his attention—something he didn’t let go unnoticed.

He let out a slow, measured breath, his voice calm but laced with a pointed firmness. “I never claimed to know everything, Corvus-san. And I certainly don’t control what the mirror shows you. Its reflection is your own—it’s your heart staring back at you, whether you’re ready to face it or not.”

It was important to see this, to document it. The maze had a way of exposing raw truths, but Maruki hadn’t anticipated… this.

Kou’s sudden, anguished shout cut through the silence like a blade.

His head whips up when he hears him cry out. "Corvus-san, are you alright?!" he asks and looks at the monitors.

His eyes darted between the screens as Kou staggered backward, the mirror rippling and distorting until—

—until the grotesque figure reappeared.

Maruki froze. The bloody silhouette twisted within the glass, its form writhing. He caught glimpses of it—Kou, Goro, Kou(?) as Goro(?)—collapsing in on itself in flashes of bloodied smiles and broken bodies. The corpse-like visage sneered back at Kou as if mocking him from within his own reflection. What did it all mean?

Maruki’s breath hitched, his hand trembling slightly as he swiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Azathoth,” he whispered, the name like acid on his tongue. He steadied himself with a shaky exhale, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him. “Why? Why would you make him remember—”

The answer came unbidden, cold and cruel as it whispered in the back of his mind.

“Because he thinks he’s above it all when, in fact, he’s drowning in it.”

“We are not having any of that—!” Maruki’s voice rose sharply as he suddenly swiped his hand through the air.

It dissolved instantly, as though it had been nothing more than a hastily drawn illusion wiped clean by a dismissive hand. Before Kou’s sword could strike it, before his anguish could escalate further, the reflection disappeared, leaving only the hollow groans of the maze surrounding him.

Maruki leaned back into the otherwise void which cushioned him from almost everywhere. Like an actual seat- except he couldn't see it.

he tried to calm the rapid beat of his heart. His voice softened again, the professional calm returning as he addressed Kou.

“Apologies, Corvus-san. That was… a little too much, wasn’t it?”

He let the silence hang just long enough for Kou’s breathing to slow. Then, Maruki leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting to something both gentle and persistent—like a guiding hand placed just between Kou’s shoulders.

“But you’re still standing, aren’t you? That’s what matters.”

He watched the monitors closely, his gaze warm but unwavering, as if trying to encourage Kou through the labyrinth’s pressure.

“Take a moment to breathe, then press on. I promise you, the tape is at the very end and once the unpredictable elements are out of the picture- you will be at peace. I mean it.”

[lostgemini]

The mirror doesn't so much as shatter as just... let his sword glide through. There's an impact, but no aftermath-

-and then the mirror is gone, and Maruki is once again speaking into his head from everywhere and nowhere at once. Kou's hands are still trembling around his blade as it rests against the ground, his heart beating in his throat, his breathing ragged and halting. Too many emotions flow through him at once, anger, grief, panic- it's a struggle to get himself under control.

A little much.

A little much.

That piece of-

A wild cackle escapes him without his consent at Maruki's words, but it's not amused, no. It's unhinged. Furious.

"How dare you. How fucking dare you. Be at peace? With your bullshit?! You're fucking- you're insane!" he shouts at the ceiling, leaning on his blade. "If you think I'll submit to you- think again!"

He forces himself to straighten up, not holstering his blade this time- he keeps it at the ready, Palnatoke at the front of his mind, just as furious as him.

"You think yourself such a good person, don't you, good doctor? A poor soul who just wants to take the pain of others away?" he sneers. "Your 'treatment' is a sham. Take it from someone who's very, very good at hurting people, Maruki; you're one of the most despicable human beings I've ever met. And I've met many of them."

He doesn't care what kind of intentions Maruki thinks he has; just the fact that he's forcing Kou through this is proof enough that he's not the kind man he portrays himself as. Oh, he certainly thinks he is, but thinking you're god's gift to humanity does not make it so.

He's a maniac. To put it mildly.

"I will get my tape, and I will get out of here," he snarls, stalking forward, "and either you let me and my tape go willingly, or you're going to regret trying to treat me in the first place." The grip on his blade tightens as he picks up the pace. Even if his heart still pounds in his chest, even if he feels destabilized, and there are brims of wetness in his eyes that he refuses to acknowledge. Fury over the blatant desecration of his brother's and his own memories keeps him going. "I will not fall to you, or your so-called treatment. Mark my words."

[takutomaruki]

Maruki sat back deeper into the unseen void, the weight of Kou's words pressing down on him like a heavy fog. The all-seeing eyes that he couldn't even see- hovering above and beside him with pupils that dilated and pulsed as they followed each move the doctor committed. For once, he didn't respond immediately—his lips parted slightly, but the words failed to come. His gaze, still focused on the monitors, flickered with something unreadable. Frustration, perhaps, or maybe something closer to...

...Closer to regret.

He tried to speak, faltered, then let the silence stretch again.

“…Despicable,” he repeated softly, as if turning the word over in his mind. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he caught himself before his expression could betray any real irritation. There was a stillness to him now, a sort of resignation that seeped into his posture. Let's say even if he didn't manifest the labyrinth- even if he simply gave the tape to Kou after being impaled by multiple arrows manifested with Almighty energy...who's to say that would have stopped Corvus to kill him anyway?

“You think I want this?” Maruki finally said, his voice low—so quiet it was almost swallowed by the groaning maze. He hesitated, fingers twitching faintly as they hovered near the controls before curling inward. “Do you think… I’m sitting here, orchestrating all of this for my own satisfaction? After months—months—of being left in the dark, not knowing what you’ve done, what you could have done…? What if what you’re doing right now—what you’ve already done—is just history repeating itself? Another cycle of destruction, another path paved with ruin, and you would never even know.”

“Tell me, Kou-san—can you tell me why I did what I did to you?” His tone hovered between challenge and plea, as if searching for something he couldn’t name. “Would you even bother to give me an answer?”

Another pause. This time, the faintest chuckle escaped him—not sharp or mocking, but brittle and worn, like a fraying thread.

“…You will make me regret it either way, won’t you?” he said softly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze—though Kou couldn’t see it directly—fell slightly, as if Maruki were speaking to himself rather than to the young man. “Even if I let you go now, even if I handed you that tape and opened every door… you’d still come back, wouldn’t you?”

The silence that followed wasn’t oppressive. It was mournful. Maruki’s fingers danced briefly on the air in front of him, like he was tracing something invisible.

A faint sigh escaped Maruki, his shoulders slumping as he finally sat up straight. His hands fell limp for a moment before curling into his lap. “There is no treatment,” he said plainly, the words carefully enunciated yet hollow in tone, as if he were admitting something dreadful. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Unless you force my hand.

It lingered there, a statement stripped bare of pretense.

The monitors reflected Kou’s relentless march forward, blade still ready, fury still unquenched. Maruki watched him quietly, perhaps waiting for some crack to appear—some flicker of hesitation in Kou’s eyes. But none came.

“Proceed,” Maruki murmured finally, resigned, as though he were surrendering to the inevitability of it all. He adjusted his glasses with a single deliberate motion, then gestured faintly at the screen. “The maze has manifested something for you. Just ahead.”

On the floor, illuminated by the faint, sickly light of the labyrinth, sat a pack of cigarettes.

Maruki’s expression remained neutral, but there was an unmistakable weight to his next words.

“Perhaps we’ll find your answers there.”

1/2

[lostgemini]

"Oh, spare me the self-pity." Kou growls at Maruki's little speech. Boo-hoo, the mad doctor isn't getting the answers or results he wants. Truly, the epitome of a pitiable wretch who has never ever had anything good happen in his life. It makes Kou want to puke. "You do the shit you do because you just can't leave well enough alone- because you think yourself a god. The only one capable- no, the only one allowed to dictate what others feel." He narrows his eyes. "But you're no god of mine. And I told you, keep my name out of your damn mouth!"

He really hates Maruki's little woe-is-me act. As if Kou can't see right through it. This is a man hellbent on taking over the world- it's just that he tells himself he's doing it to 'take away pain'. Right- brainwashing everyone to forget that things are bad isn't dystopian at all. Fulfilling wishes? Bullshit. This guy never bothered looking further into why people are the way they are, or what they actually want. Only what he thinks is best for them, their actual wishes be damned.

So, hell yes is he going to make him regret it either way. After everything Kou's been through today, he's going to make this bastard pay. All he had to do is give Kou the tape when he entered the Palace- or hell, just asked someone to give it to him. Maybe, just maybe Kou wouldn't have been so fucking hostile if Maruki hadn't used his dead brother to lure him before trapping him in his Palace.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," he laughs, somewhat manic, "unless I don't play along- isn't that right?" He hasn't forgotten the way Maruki forced Sumire and her Persona to go berserk, back in his own world, just because he, Goro, and Amamiya wouldn't accept his world. Perhaps this one hasn't done that yet, but this maze is proof enough that he's not above such things.

And by god, he's going to tear this place to the ground. Whatever the next thing the maze has manifested for him- per Maruki's words- he doesn't care. He's not playing along. He's getting his tape back, and he's going to-

-is that a fucking pack of cigarettes?

2/2

[lostgemini]

If Kou weren't so wound up, he might've paused. He might've rolled his eyes, even, har dee har, showing the smoker a pack of cigarettes- or is it a metaphor for how he's slowly killing himself with his grief? How he's substituting Maruki's 'treatment' for something else that's 'worse' than his brainwashing, than his blatant disrespect for the dead?

As it stands, though, Kou only glares at the cigarettes, approaching it warily with his sword drawn, ready to defend himself. He doesn't trust this for shit- does Maruki think him stupid enough to fall for his traps?

"Any answers you're hoping to find," he sneers, "are not going to come from me."

(God, he craves a cigarette.)

His legs are trembling in a way he refuses to acknowledge as he slowly walks by, eyes not leaving the pack for even a moment. It's just an ordinary pack of cigarettes- his favorite brand, even, but with the way Maruki said that, there's clearly something else going on.

And he doesn't have to wait long for the other shoe to drop- as soon as he crosses an invisible boundary, the cigarettes ripple, the form changing-

Kou freezes, ever so briefly.

A gun sits in their place. But not just any gun.

That's the gun Goro and his cognitive versions were holding.

The gun that- that-

Kou twists his head away, letting out a low, angry (or is it despairing?) noise. His chest aches, remembering the faded scar Goro showed him, one that had healed for too quickly to be natured, one that should have killed, but Goro was alive- alive- except he wasn't, it was just his corpse, brought back by Maruki, remolded and reworked, ready to be used against-

"You've got some nerve." Kou grits his teeth. "Asking me for answers when you keep doing shit like this."

He forces himself to keep walking.

1/2

[takutomaruki]

Maruki’s fingers stilled, hovering just above the unseen controls before curling into a fist. His brow furrowed, subtle irritation breaking through his carefully maintained composure. He stared hard at the monitors now, the reflection of Kou’s movements flickering across his glasses.

“God?” Maruki muttered to himself, a faint edge to his voice. “You think I see myself as a god?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh—thin and brittle, lacking warmth. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” Maruki shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to stave off a headache. “I rejected that, Corvus-san. The throne. The power offered to me. The chance to shape the world however I wanted. You think I would have put you here if I had that absolute control you speak of? What is it you are so scared of? Living a normal life with the people you love and cherish?"

"And as per mythology, no god ever gives the people what they want. Do you think they would have been gods in the first place?”

"My reality can be just the way you like. Let me guide you."

He stops, eyes shut close as he curls in on himself- eyes widening as flashes appear. Yet again. Memories flood in and he's grown almost quiet- trying to contain his own frustration, helplessness and the power trip that had nearly blurred out his vision. Azathoth pulsed within his veins as black lines outstretched on the skin under the white visage- an ugly green running its branches on pale skin.
He remembers Ren rendering his arm broken- riddling it with bullets.
He remembers the hate spiralling on the boards.
He remembers Kou's words.

"Yes. You finally understand."

But then he remembers Azathoth and how he had guided him to the bottom of mementos. How it was coercing the doctor from the start to use the maze on Kou and now he was doing just that. Kou was in the very walls of Azathoth- exactly as the persona planned.

"..."

Maruki is yet to even leave his lab at this point- stuck thinking about the what ifs of what would have happened if he stepped further and took the metaphorical map that resided in his hand.

He could have even changed this hate spiralling around him.

His voice sharpened slightly, the calm veneer cracking. “And yet, here you are, throwing the same accusation at me as though it’s so simple. As though this—all of this—is about some petty desire for control. You don’t understand a thing.”

Maruki exhaled deeply, his tone softening, though the edge of his irritation remained. “I tried to help you. I tried to speak to you like a reasonable person. But clearly, that isn’t going to work. So let’s drop the pretense, shall we?” He leaned back, his posture loosening, a familiar, practiced look settling on his face—one Kou might recognize from therapists he’s encountered before. Calm. Patient. Infuriating. What? He knows very well how therapists actually act. Hell when Shibusawa suggested an online one all Maruki thought about was just how cold they always were. Pretending like it was so easy to-

2/2

[takutomaruki]

Maruki’s voice took on a clinical, almost detached quality, as though he were guiding a session. “You say I’m doing ‘shit like this,’ but I think it’s time we clarify a few things, Corvus-san. Let’s be honest about what we’re seeing here.”

He gestured vaguely at the monitors, his gaze sharpening as he continued. “You’re seeing what you bring into this maze. You perceive what your own mind manifests- that's the whole principle of cognition. Its not something which is forced but something which manifests from your own perception. it is truly a shame that you don't wish to face it but we can work on that together. Or not.”

“Asking me for answers when you keep doing shit like this.”

...

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Get a smoke. Anything.

Maruki’s irritation boiled over, and for the first time, his voice raised—not quite shouting, but sharper than before. “I didn’t even know Goro Akechi had a twin in your world!” He practically hissed the words, his frustration clear. “In fact, I’m certain he didn’t exist in MY world. So tell me—how the hell would I know that you’re a smoker? How would I know that?!”

His hand lashed out, gesturing to the rippling maze as though it betrayed him. “Do you think I’m sitting here micromanaging every little thing that appears in this place? A pack of cigarettes? A gun? That’s your mind, Kou-san. Yours. Every little strange horrific thing sitting in your heart has nothing to do with me. Don’t pin that on me.”

Maruki sat back again, adjusting his glasses with a slightly shaky hand. He took a slow breath, his voice evening out once more—but the faint, bitter edge remained. “You’re angry. I understand that. But maybe—just maybe—you should stop to consider what this maze is really showing you. What it’s dredging up from you.”

As Kou would walk further ahead, an object would start floating above in the air- hovering in a sickly pale light as it revealed itself to be the outlines of a dark mask.

A mask waiting to be held.

He gestured faintly at the monitors. “Because whether you like it or not, Corvus-san, this isn’t about me. Sorry to disappoint you in those regards.”

All he can really see is just how ready he is to throw him out of here once he knows just why did his tape incite so much of his own memory. He's certain there was never a twin in the first place. He could bet his life on it actually but the death of Goro Akechi was integral. It was someone's wish and while he could guess who the candidate could have been- family was first.

Kou was Goro's family.

He would have the answer.

[fogboundcrow]

There's a Maruki here now, apparently, and I really hope he doesn't try anything that absurd.

[Hrmph. Imagine... Granted, Igor would likely limit his abilities.]

I imagine it would be difficult, forgetting an entire relationship. It's not his fault, but it would still sting.

[vampirethief]

[Well crap. He should have seen that coming.]

Well he'll have an uphill battle trying to have anyone on his side. Other than that one version of Sumire anyway.

[Aka the one that tried to put Pro-Maruki propaganda on the board.]

It did hurt at the time, but once he was back to himself, he did apologize to me and we made up. All of them apologized too.

[fogbornphantom]

[He blows a slow sigh. How to put this...]

One of my friends isn't too unlike Morgana. He started off unsure of himself and the nature of his existence. He was able to make peace with his nature, as he grew to be so much more, but with Morgana so adamant about his humanity, sometimes I worry.