Velvet Room Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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personavelvetroomdr2024-11-21 04:38 pm
vrdr_mods) wrote in personavelvetroomdr2024-11-21 04:38 pm
Entry tags:
[EVENT] Memory Tapes
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!]
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!]
no subject
And frankly he’s trying to gauge Kira’s reaction, if he’d just shut down that line of questioning or run, or worse, try and fight him just to avoid talking.
There’s too many unknowns, so it’s safer to be civil.
Especially if this guy can time travel, he wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t know where the lines are.
He chuckles dryly. “Yes that’s one way to phrase my reaction to the tape.” Really underselling it here. “I’m stating to think I’ve been tossed into a really bad crossover episode.” Not even the fun ones where the writers knows this is a dumb premise but good around with it.
He’s fucking stressed!!!
“…yes, I suppose your concerns are warranted. I can’t imagine being kept in a confined space would help in that regard either” nothings worse for paranoia then locking people who you can’t trust in a room together.
But right, back to business.
“Indeed it is. Felt safer that way” he doesn’t know what would happen if the tape got damaged and frankly, does not want to be the one to find out!
But anyways, he reaches over to unlatch the case, popping it open. And low and behold there’s the tape itself! Sitting on top of the notebooks and papers already stuffed in there. There’s probably more in there but good luck convincing akechi to let you snoop around in his stuff.
no subject
"I will figure out how to deal with it." He always does- living with the consequences of his own actions and the foolishness of others being thrown into the equation of a potential future that constantly changes in his own hand.
Safer, huh?
This Akechi is seemingly different from others. His own, even from a different dimension- shared countless similarities and tragedies with the other Akechi’s here however this one- has it different.
Offering a small grin, he follows to where Akechi (who's codename he hasn't asked yet) pops open the case on the stool- vaguely remembering how he used to bring his cat over and let him lounge there in a bag because Akechi didn't want them to get kicked out because of a pet.
He finds his tape there and for a moment he stills- as if he’s being told to swallow the poison sitting away, poetically, in Akechi’s classic attache case. For a moment he doesn't even look at the notebooks, until his focus falls on a report dated in April. The train incident. He reaches for the tape and pulls it against the stack of notebooks- "accidently" knocking over a small pocket planner that falls from the case-
-only for Akira to catch it in his hand before it could fall to the ground. The months peak away from it in the small tags poking out from the pages, withered till march but fresh from may. His judgement was right.
"Sorry," he places it back into the stack and closes the attache. This Akechi doesn’t even know an Akira, potentially. They don't meet until late april.
"...what did you see in my tape?" He slowly asks, looking back at him while holding the tape as if Akechi just handed him a suicide pill.
no subject
He’s not sorry that it’s out there now, from the sounds of it this was going to happen eventually, he just happened to be the one to topple the first domino.
How fun…
He eyes Kira when he ‘accidentally’ knocks over his planner. Had this been anyone else he might have accepted this as just a fumble.
But he’s seen the tape, this kira has a knack for investigating.
He better tread carefully.
“It’s no trouble” he smiles though its sharp at the edges.
“Though if you wanted to find out more about me you could always ask me directly.” He glares at kira a moment, “or at least wait till I’m not looking before you start snooping. He’s mostly just annoyed. But he’s willing to let that drop, for now.
But right, the tape’s contents, oh boy. Akechi crosses his arms.
“Well, you looked to be investigating something, and then it tied into Wakaba…” he tries to smother down any hesitance at using her name, “and that’s when the time travel happened, I believe you were trying to save her? Frankly I didn’t fully understand it, and rewatching a memory of someone else just to analyze it felt far too invasive”… not that he didn’t consider it, but frankly that’s a headache he doesn’t have the patience for.
“… and then there was what I can only assume is possession, and beyond that…” his akechi died, and then he did, and he can only assume killed by something that called that whole thing a game.
Christ almighty what is this Akira’s world like?
And he felt really unsettled seeing Futaba like that.
“…I’m assuming you know which memory I’m speaking of at this point, yes? I’d rather not go on” it’s hard to hide his confusion and annoyance in his tone by now, voice a little to harsh for a detective Prince, not sharp enough for a fully mask off Akechi. But screw it he is frustrated! What the hell is all this about a game? What the hell is akira and his akechi up against?
And what does it mean for him if some sort of god behind the scenes is a universal constant?
no subject
But the gears in his mind was already turning.
He shuts the case close and raises his hands in mock surrender- letting him know he isn't planning to poke more.
But what does this mean?
Having someone this early from the usual timeline- wouldn't that prove to be dangerous if by some potential off chance- this Akechi leaves with memories retained? Advice from Akechis and Akiras (or Rens) from the future...
That line of thought halts as Akechi goes more into the contents of the tape.
Akira grows quiet. The amusement dies as a slow breath heaves through his lips- downturned as he mentioned Wakaba. Futaba's mother. The bright scientist wronged by the hands of Masayoshi Shido. "Huh." Trying to save her. It had all started with that, didn't it? The first time Akira tried to rectify his mistakes. The possession. Dread crawled within his skin as he clutches himself tighter- the tape now tucked into his chest.
He's grown fully quiet. Mind trapped within the boundaries of the tape with Akechi's voice echoing distantly.
"The original timeline, yeah," he answers after a long time- chuckling to himself as he balls his fist and grits his teeth. "Of course. Yeah. The red eyes." He watched it all. The twist was that instead of Yaldaboath killing him, he tried to kill Futaba in her own body. Like Wakaba. A sick fucking thing to do and all this time- in all these timelines he's fighting against a wild force like him while making up to Akechi's rule for living with the consequences of the present.
"...excuse me for a bit," he finally says after a long time and if Akechi did speak in between he doesn't answer him. His fingers creak into the tape- force tad bit stronger than normal.
no subject
Really, even Hannei is sneakier than that… then again he had some foresight, he might not have noticed if he wasn’t looking.
But he’s patient as he waits for Kira to respond, keeping an eye on his reactions, what this memory might mean to him.
“Original timeline-“ oh but he doesn’t get to finish that question as Kira excuses himself.
…
He can’t force him to stay here, he’d be a hypocrite to deny him that. “Take your time…” he says instead. And resolves to wait.
…
Fuck he’s going to have to look into the possibility of some god involved behind the scenes isn’t he? Fuck, shit, Damnit.
Maybe they both need a minute to process.
If this fucking place keeps throwing curveballs his way Akechi might start breaking shit.
1/2
With that, he turns away and quite literally power walks to the door of the washroom. He needs to see what the tape truly contained or how much of his powers had been blatantly exposed to the public. He doesn't trust Akechi's words for even a second- if he's coerced enough he might spill everything he knows.
Akira hunches over in the cramped washroom stall, knees nearly brushing the door as he balances the makeshift cassette converter on his phone. The device whirs softly, the screen flickering to life with a grainy image. His heart pounds in his chest as he braces himself, his fingers trembling slightly as they tap the screen.
Play.
The tape begins. The footage is warped but clear enough, showing flashes of a world he remembers yet doesn't. There’s Wakaba, her bright smile framed by her iconic glasses. For a moment, it’s almost too much—too raw—to see her like this, alive and full of light. Then the timeline spirals, unraveling into chaos.
Futaba’s screams. His own panicked voice. The sickening sight of Wakaba collapsing, over and over, her fragile body crumpling under an unbearable weight. The flicker of possession.
The screen glitches, static overtaking the image.
"So desperate to save what you have left, trickster?"
They fought. It’s a desperate fight, one where he’s holding back every strike, every swing, terrified of what might happen if he lets loose. Her movements are erratic, violent, and he sees flashes of the real Futaba struggling underneath the surface—her body jerking as if trying to wrestle control from the god using her like a puppet.
It doesn’t matter how many times he tells himself it wasn’t her fault. It doesn’t matter that he knows it was Yaldaboath pulling the strings.
The memory is etched into his mind. Every hit he landed on her was still him hitting Futaba even if it was for the sake of defending her or getting rid of the knife in her hands.
The police burst in. They saw him crouched over her, the knife he held that held Akechi's blood, her body bruised and battered as she came back to consciousness- horrified by what had happened as she begged Akira for answers. No explanation would ever suffice.
Akira squeezes his eyes shut, but the images only become sharper. He sees Goro’s bloodied hand twitch once before going still, Futaba’s body jerking unnaturally under Yaldaboath’s control, and the echoes of his own helpless screams bouncing in his skull.
His breaths grow shorter, faster, and he doesn’t even realize his hands are trembling until the phone slips from his grip, clattering against the floor.
And then, there it is. The laughter.
That damned laughter.
It starts low, a rumbling chuckle that crawls up his spine, but it grows louder, more insidious, as though it’s coming from inside his head.
His nails dig into his palms hard enough to draw blood as the voice mocks him, relentless and cruel.
Futaba’s body, twisting unnaturally as Yaldaboath pulled the strings.
The knife in her hand, raised high.
Goro’s body, crumpling forward, blood pooling around him as the light left his eyes.
His stomach twists. The metallic tang of blood fills his senses, though he knows it’s not real—it’s memory. Memory clawing its way to the forefront, drowning him.
And still, the laughter.
The knife flashes again in his mind, plunging into Goro’s chest, the way his breath rattled before stopping entirely. The blood soaking into the floorboards. Futaba’s small hand clutching the knife.
He snaps.
The gun is in his hand before he even realizes it. The sharp, metallic click of the safety being flicked off cuts through the oppressive silence like a razor.
Bang!
The first shot cracks the oppressive silence, slamming into the stall wall. The impact leaves a clean hole, fragments of tile cascading onto the floor.
Bang! Bang!
Two more follow in quick succession, ringing out like desperate screams in the cramped space. Dust and debris scatter, but Akira doesn’t stop.
The laughter doesn’t stop.
He grits his teeth, his vision narrowing, and fires again.
Bang! Bang!
The stall shakes under the force, cracks spidering across the wall where the bullets hit. His breaths are shallow, uneven, but the oppressive weight in his chest eases just slightly as the gun lowers.
His phone is still intact, clenched tightly in his other hand. Despite the chaos of his breakdown, he never let it go. Akira isn’t the type to destroy his tools—not even in the depths of his panic. His functionality is an armor, even when it shouldn’t be.
But the laughter lingers, faint and mocking, and his grip on the phone tightens further. His free hand lifts, running through his hair as he sinks to the ground, his back sliding down the stall wall until he’s sitting.
His hands press against his temples as he tries to will the images away, but they linger, vivid and unrelenting.
And then, faintly, the laughter fades, replaced by something worse. Silence.
He looks down at the ruined tape on the floor- shards of plastic and circuitry scattered like confetti, the fragments digging into his palm. His grip tightens as his lips press into a thin line, his teeth grinding together.
...
He exhales shakily, sliding the gun back into its holster as he steadies himself. His fingers swipe at the phone’s screen. The image of the tape’s end stares back at him—his own face reflected in black, red streaks from the recording burned into the edges.
The silence returns, broken only by the sound of his breath slowly evening out.
Akira stares at the phone for a long moment before finally tucking it away. He pushes himself to his feet, his legs steady despite the hollow ache in his chest. The resolve hardens in his eyes as he fixes his hood and adjusts his sunglasses.
He steps out of the stall with quiet purpose, leaving behind the bullet-riddled walls as he walks out.
=====
Re: 2/2
By the time he strides back into the main room, the tension in his shoulders is gone, replaced with a loose, easy gait.
And the grin. Oh, that grin—wide, charming, just the right mix of cocky and playful. It stretches across his face like it belongs there, and for all intents and purposes, it does.
“Man, public restrooms, huh?” Akira announces with a laugh, hands shoved casually into his hoodie pockets as he approaches Akechi. “They’re always so… hit or miss. Guess this one was more ‘miss.’”
He throws himself onto a nearby bar stool placed just a few metres away from where the dart stations were, legs sprawling out like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s a casual display, perfectly executed—except for the faint smell of gunpowder clinging to his clothes.
no subject
And then he hears the gunshots and decides, yep, he would not have been able to handle whatever crisis he’s having.
He should probably just leave, especially if Kira has a gun on him, but he stays rooted in place. The possibility of more information outweighs the risks of obtaining it.
And if he can get one over on Shido…
He’ll just have to be careful not to piss kira off enough to get shot.
Eventually Kira returns, acting like whatever happened in the restroom didn’t, and decides not to press.
He’s getting the impression that Kira might firmly be in the ‘too many loops’ part of a time loop story… which is a bit troubling to consider.
So instead he just shakes his head.
“We all have our moments” is what he responds with, because frankly, he isn’t immune to rash violence as a form of coping.
…so unless Kira volunteers the information he just won’t ask for the time being.
no subject
“Huh,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Akechi to catch. He chuckles, more to himself than anyone else, his hands still tucked casually into his hoodie pockets. “You are actually staying.”
He doesn’t elaborate on the statement, doesn’t prod or demand an explanation. Instead, he lets the silence stretch just long enough to feel weighty before breaking it with a low laugh. “Makes sense I guess- you arrived from April. You are yet to run into me...if there is a version of me in your world."
His gaze slides across the room, landing on the dartboard mounted on the wall. His expression shifts, a flicker of mischief lighting up his features.
He gestures at the dartboard with a tilt of his head, his grin widening. “So,” he begins, his tone light and playful, "Wanna play darts?"
Akira’s grin widens, his voice dropping to a teasing lilt with his hands raised up. “Promise I won’t shoot the board.”
no subject
He lets the silence stand.
And when Kira does speak, he shrugs. “That’d be correct, I haven’t had the… pleasure of becoming acquainted with the Akira or Ren from my world.” It’ll be nice to know what name to use that’s for sure. “I’ve no reason to believe there isn’t one. We just haven’t met yet… and if this universal constant is upheld we inevitably will” He just feels like there’d be more drastically different if there wasn’t. He’s still a little miffed Kira didn’t just ask him for that information directly but, fine, he’ll let it slide.
And then Kira asks if he wants to play darts. He blinks in surprise a moment, considering the offer.
You know what? Why not. He does still want to ask a few questions, for his own curiosities sake.
And considering the fucking ride he’s been on today throwing sharp objects at a board sounds like great stress relief.
“Sure, I’m up for a few games” he smirks a bit in a silent challenge, “though be aware, I only play 701” why not? He’s up for a challenge. And he did notice how well Kira was playing when he arrived. So screw it why not?
Mockingbird actually snorts at Kira’s last comment, “I’d hope not, it’d be difficult to play with the dart board full of bullet holes”
no subject
Well. Everything.
"Do you?" He raises a brow at Akechi's "warning" and for a moment he wonders if he even realizes who he was challenging. "Go easy on me then, please." He grins- knowing that it will just further fuel the Akechi to rub his face to the ground in some way of showing himself off before actually going easy on him. Always going for the Bullseye, taking no more than five to ten seconds to land his mark and only messing up when Akira was messing with him. The perfect recipe for disaster.
Akira strolls up to the dartboard, picking up the set of darts with a casual air, though his sharp eyes betray a flicker of anticipation. He spins one dart lazily between his fingers as he turns back to Akechi. He doesn’t seem fazed. He’s grinning wide, the type of grin that says he’s walking straight into a storm—and enjoying every second of it.
He hands the darts to Akechi, the gesture smooth and deliberate, as though relinquishing control in a game he’s already planning to upend.
“Alright, Akechi-san,” he says, putting just enough emphasis on the name to make it sound like both a compliment and a jab. “You’re up first. Show me what you’ve got.”
no subject
And oh boy Kira’s taunt works. He’s aware he’s probably being goaded, but screw it he’s a competitive little shit! He gives a competitive smirk as he accepts the darts.
“Of course, of course” he keeps his tone pleasant but the slight twitch in his smile means he acknowledged the jab. ‘go easy on me’ he says, like Kira isn’t the one with objectively more time to practice between the two. But akechi will give it his all. Maybe he can surprise the time traveler yet!
Which is an objectively ridiculous sentence he thinks but screw it better to just roll with the weirdness in this place.
Akechi steps up to the line and readies his aim.
And of course, he hits the bullseye on all his throws. Not perfect shots, mind you, but he’s consistent and that’s what matters to him. After his turn he looks to Kira and smirks.
“Don’t hold back on my account.” He says with a overly sweet cadence that makes it pretty clear he’s exaggerating. But the meaning is there, he will be insulted if Kira tries to ‘let akechi win’ he wants to see just how skilled this time traveler is.
And maybe it’s because he’s competitive more than curious but seriously if he wins it wants to be because he genuinely won, not because this guy was handicapping himself.
That also means the possibility of loosing but he can put up a fight.
no subject
And he sees it. The three consecutive bullseyes. Kira whistles in acknowledgement, very much impressed still.
When Akechi turns his smile sharpens to his usual unusual self. "A hat trick. Classic."
"I will not-" he raises his palm up- almost muscle memory before he stops. Eyes widening midway as he was about to prepare for a high-five like he always shared with his Akechi as a joke. "...Sorry- force of habit."
no subject
He blink. Dangit, Futaba made this muscle memory for him.
Um.
…
“…I’m not going to get time traveled or something if we high five, right?” Is what he says instead. Look the tape didn’t exactly give him context here.
He doesn’t even seem that upset? Then again, futaba would drag him into a high five or some sort of similarly playfully silly gesture whenever they played video games, and thanks to her Hannei would start doing that too.
For better or for worse he’s a little more relaxed about these things.
no subject
“…I’m not going to get time traveled or something if we high five, right?”
The words make Akira pause, his eyes meeting Akechi’s as if to gauge whether the question was genuine or just deadpan humor. He doesn’t answer immediately; instead, a snort escapes him, low and amused. His grin returns in full force, sharp and mischievous, as he wordlessly brings his palm forward to meet Akechi’s gloved one with a loud, satisfying clap.
For a moment, Akira holds the connection, leaning slightly closer as if sharing a great cosmic secret.
“There,” he says, voice light with mock gravity. “You have now time traveled 69 years into the future.” His grin only widens as he pulls his hand back, the glint in his eyes daring Akechi to take the comment seriously.
Akira straightens, his tone shifting to a faux-professorial cadence. “Don’t worry,” he adds with a wink. “The time resonant theory won’t work with you. It only triggers if you have the specific power set. My Akechi used to have it—worked like a charm because it triggered a unique chemical reaction when he overthought everything. Poor guy.”
He waves his hand lazily as he steps past Akechi, heading toward the dartboard to grab his own set of darts. “And, for the record, there’s no photo in play here, so we’re safe,” he says, almost as an afterthought.
For a moment, Akira’s pace slows, his grin dimming into something more contemplative. He taps the end of one dart against the tips of his fingers, his brows knitting together as if an idea had begun brewing in the back of his mind.
“I really had to convince my Akechi to high-five me, though,” he says suddenly, the words carrying a hint of nostalgia. “Like, really had to convince him. This—” he gestures between himself and Akechi with a faint smirk, “this is a first across all the timelines. Well, aside from one… but you guys usually act like you’re allergic to being remotely fun. Real grandpa energy.”
no subject
But then quickly realizes Kira is in fact joking and he got concerned over nothing. He frowns, but shakes his head instead of saying anything.
“I’m starting to understand why Joker seems to Be the default nickname for Akirens” he deadpans, god is his Akira/Ren going to be like this?
What a headache… not that he hates this.
But at Kira’s explanation, he actually looks curious, “so the time travel ability is like a chemical reaction in your world? Fascinating.” And photos are required? Hm. Neat. He files that away for knowledge he isn’t sure if he’ll use but likes to know.
“Wh- I’m not allergic to fun!” Akechi responds defensively, okay sure he’s more serious than the rest of his group but that doesn’t mean he hates fun! -Loki stop laughing Futaba isn’t here to needle him about being a grump.
“I just- well” Akechi huffs. “Futaba seems convinced she has to teach me how to be less of a ‘stick in the mud’ not that she has to… I guess some of that stuck.” He doesn’t hate the game nights Futaba drags him into, or the late night discussions of featherman or whatever other media she’s invested in that he might have done a cursory search of so he could at least follow along… and rile her up with giving purposefully bad takes.
“…I’m not a grandpa. I can be fun. I’m a delight to be around” Akechi does not pout, he does NOT-
no subject
He draws his arm back, flicking his wrist with practiced precision. The dart sails through the air, landing dead-center on the triple 20. A perfect 60. He grabs another dart, his focus only breaking when he glances at Akechi and catches his expression—somewhere between a pout and an indignant scowl.
For a second, Akira freezes, his smirk faltering. The light in his eyes shifts, warming like a campfire sparking to life. The way Akechi’s brows furrow and his lips press together—it strikes something familiar in Akira, something achingly personal. It’s almost funny, how the smallest things can remind him of his own Akechi.
“Hey.” His voice softens as he sets the second dart loose. Another triple 20. “You are a delight to be around. Seriously. I mean it.” His tone has shifted too, as if he's talking distinctly from a world where he knows how much his own Akechi would want to hear it. "If it weren't for the whole multiversal madness I would say that to everyone here but well- rumors will follow me around everywhere so I keep to myself."
He doesn’t look at Akechi right away, instead focusing on his final dart. “In my world, you’ve kept me out of so much trouble, more than I care to admit.” He exhales slowly, releasing the third dart, which lands cleanly in the triple 20 again.
Akira exhales and leans slightly against the dartboard frame, tilting his head to glance at Akechi. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—not quite envy, but a wistful kind of longing—as he continues, “And, hey, I think it’s nice that you’re close to your Futaba. She’s got a good eye, you know. Knows who’s worth sticking around for.”
no subject
And it’s not like he had any better bird choices he could think of.
He still feels it’s a placeholder until he does come up with something better, not that he’s really considered other options lately.
And then Kira says that. And he blinks at him, a bit surprised by the genuine comment.
It’s…
…
Damn, is this why the Akechi Akiren rivalry is common across the multiverse? If his Akiren is like this then maybe it would be nice to have him as a friend.
Or rival.
“…that’s, appreciated” is what Akechi eventually says, looking at the board and Kira’s full tripple 20s. He tries not to roll his eyes at the rumors comment, yes yes he will keep this to himself bla bla bla.
Ah, Futaba. “She does. And if she’s decided she likes you she will cling like a kuala and refuse to let go” he shakes his head, fighting back the fond smile as he thinks of her. He supposed her friendship isn’t the worst.
He still dreads the day she realizes the full extent of his involvement with her mother but… he doesn’t mind pretending that isn’t a looming issue
Just a bit longer.
… it’s his turn next isn’t it? He should get the darts.
no subject
He grips his own chin and offers him an indignant smile. It's always nice to render another Akechi speechless here but for once- this wasn't actual teasing. He meant those words. Words he would scream to the rest of the world if he could.
His grin falters, however, as the conversation turns to Futaba. Akechi’s fond comment about her loyalty brings a flicker of something heavier into Akira’s expression. His thoughts drift, unbidden, to Glitch and then back to the Futaba in his own world—the uphill battle she faced, the betrayal she had to uncover, the pain of losing Wakaba. Akira had witnessed it all, had been there when she pieced herself back together and found her own strength while facing the other dilemmas in her life.
Mockingbird had witnessed the first instance of it in his tape.
A wistful smile tugs at his lips, faint and fleeting. “She’s… always been like that, hasn’t she?” His voice is softer now, carrying a weight of nostalgia that he doesn’t elaborate on. When she cares about someone, she’ll go through hell and high water for them. And she’ll drag you through it too—kicking and screaming, if she has to.
He grows quiet again, his gaze lingering on the dartboard as if the triple 20s still hold some unspoken answer. After a moment, he steps back, turning to Akechi with a sly smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Without a word, he extends a hand for another high-five, his other hand holding out the darts.
“Your turn,” Akira says lightly, the weight in his tone now tucked away behind his usual ease.
no subject
“Loki had taken to calling Hannei Mockingbird when we first met her… among other things,” Loki was really mean to her when they first met… not that he blames him, she was really weird. “But yes when the subject of nicknames came up, Hannei made that suggestion. Apparently she found it charming that Loki called her that” he still finds the notion ridiculous, but he didn’t feel like dissuading her.
So akechi shrugs. “I suppose it’s not bad, it is long though, but it’s not like I’ve come up with anything better” and.. well the mirror analogy does fit he supposed.
But Futaba, yeah… she’s always been like that huh? He just nods in agreement.
“…I’m not sure how I earned her friendship, but I’d hate to let her down…” he admits quietly. Akechi shakes his head and goes to take his turn, grabbing the darts he goes back to the line, and his first shot is a bulls eye.
Not perfect, guess the discussion got him distracted, better focus back up then.
no subject
"I just used my name as a codename to be honest," he chuckles. "You will be fine."
Kira makes note of Mockingbird's actions, now narrowing his eyes at him after they high five and part again. He's distracted- probably hiding something in true Goro Akechi fashion.
So what does Akira does what he does best when he sees an Akechi in need? Get him out of his own head.
He raises his fist and goes "Go go Goro-san!" The choreography of his movements is hilarious as he jerks his closed fist up then down.
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“Yes, from what we understand it seems there’s no other variation of her. So yes it’s likely some unique condition of my world” he isn’t sure what that says about things if he’s the only one with a Hannei…
…
He really doesn’t want to think about it, he raises his arm to throw his last dart, trying to just stop his mind from running for a few seconds.
And then.
Go Go Goro-San!
HUH!? Akechi blinks and his eyes go wide as he looks over at Kira in pure shock and confusion. What- what WHAT-
“What- what was- huh???” Well good job you’ve thoroughly distracted him from getting stuck in his head. Now he’s confused and mildly angry about this.
“What was- did you do this before??” He kind of wants to hit Kira, but that would be extreme. Instead…
Instead he takes his shot, and purposefully aims away from the center. Oh drat that was a 10. Whatever will you do.
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Akira levels a grin at him as he watches the poor detective stumble off from his words. He didn't think those words had such a peculiar effect on other Akechis as well- though after the fifth time of making the same comment the glare Akechi levelled him with was close to him admitting that Akira should deal with a fate worse than death.
Classic.
"Huh," his expression does fall when he sees the dart jostling on the target before settling on the 10. "...did you need pom-poms for the celebration, detective?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," he says in regards to the Akechi asking if he's done this before. Well...
"Guess I will take charge then," his eyes hold the same glint before as he gestures at Mockingbird while holding out his palm.
There's a brief moment of silence from him before he looks away and holds his dart up while angling his best shot. "Can I...ask you something?"
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“Don’t you dare” the glare falls fairly quick, somehow this hasn’t reached a point of annoyance where akechi wants to leave yet.
Maybe he’s just more competitive than he is frustrated?
Hm. Anyways.
Darts retrieved, he sets them in Kira’s awaiting palm. He then steps back so he can take his turn.
…oh? He tilts his head slightly when Kira speaks next.
“…I don’t see why not.” He hums, curious now.
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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.
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