and i ride in my red dress, and time stretches endless

[willowandoak]

Ren's been antsy lately. Easily startled, prone to snapping and to cringing away from stuff he handled better when he first got here. Stressed? Maybe that's the word. Owain stirs, which happens less than it used to, but Ren squishes him back down before he has the chance to offer alternative interpretations for Ren's state of mind.

It doesn't matter anyway. Ren has a street in Shinjuku to explode.

While it will be satisfying, the real point of the exercise is to answer the list of questions he has about the immediate aftermath of an explosion and the following hours. They all walk blithely around in this place they've found themselves in, but they don't know shit about where on the cognition-reality scale it is or how the cognitions process their surroundings. They haven't needed to know yet, but that could change at any time.

Thankfully, it's pretty easy to make a bomb when you can just wander into anywhere you want and grab stuff, so Ren has everything set up. He's done a test explosion to make sure his math was right and removed the risk of little kid interlopers and everything. He's chosen a side street, big enough to get cognitive traffic but not so big that a giant hole in the road will annoy real people. Now all that's left is to clear the area and do the deed.

You might encounter him at the following times:


1: bring your salt, bring your cigarette

Ren might want to blow up a street. Indeed, he might be hoping to take out some of the shit-awful cognitions. But he's not interested in killing any actual people right now, and that means he has to do a sweep of the area beforehand to clear out anyone who might be around.

The bomb is big enough that it'll take out not just the street he's chosen but a good section of the buildings on either side, and of course there's a fair chance that a fire will start and spread, even though Ren waited for a rainy day. So he starts work fairly early in the morning. He combs through shops and the empty apartments above them, he disturbs cognitions on the toilet, he pokes his head into nearby alleyways, he puts up handwritten signs: I AM BLOWING UP THIS AREA. GO AWAY. (Those are also part of the experiment.) Being responsible kinda sucks, actually.

If he finds a real person, he's going to approach—or perhaps you see him first.


2: i'll turn your sea to a desert

A huge explosion shatters the normalcy of a drizzly early afternoon. The shockwave rocks the buildings in Shinjuku for several streets on all sides of the blast site, shattering glass and toppling signs. If you happen to be looking in the right direction, you might see a plume of smoke and debris rising over the buildings, though the fire at its heart is surprisingly small. A moment later, rocks and other debris rain from the sky, pelting those who haven't had the forethought to seek cover.

After pressing the button to trigger the detonator, Ren has taken shelter in a bank with thick stone walls several streets away. The bomb takes a moment to work, as he knows it will, but that doesn't stop him from wondering if something's gone wrong with the remote signal, or the detonator itself, or the booster—but as the countdown in his head reaches zero, the bomb detonates. The bank trembles, rattling windows in their frames, but Ren isn't stupid enough to stand near those.

Something releases inside him as the ground trembles beneath his feet, destruction he caused with his own hands. He closes his eyes as the walls settle and lets out a slow breath. But the explosion itself was only half the point; he waits for the debris to fall outside, then puts on a facemask to protect his lungs and steps out of the building. As cognitions scream and fret, fleeing the scene—and he takes note that they're doing that—he walks calmly towards the hole in the street, hands in his pockets as ever.

The buildings on either side are in ruins, half-destroyed with their innards exposed to passersby. The first of Ren's questions about the nature of their surroundings will be answered now, but he's not paying attention; his gaze is fixed on the gutted structures. They evoke... something. He can't name the feeling. Something hungry.

There aren't many fires, at least.

Anyone who is (perhaps unwisely) drawn to the source of the explosion is likely to see him there, a lone still figure, recognizable as an Akira or a Ren by his hair and eyes, even if you don't know him to identify him by his shabby clothes.


3: bring your boy, bring your bottle

It's early evening by now. Ren is back at the scene of the crime, or perhaps he never left, although he's trashed the facemask by now in light of the lack of weird fires. He's set up a little lounge chair under a beach umbrella near the site of the explosion so he can watch comfortably. The site itself looks almost like it did at first, but Ren is already starting to notice changes. And the behavior of the cognitions is interesting.

Also worth noting, in his view, is the fact that no emergency services have showed up at any point. He's seen cops on street corners and shit, but if they don't respond to emergencies, could it be that this is a de facto cop-free world? A paradise.

He has food, too. Energy drinks and soda in a cooler, and all the snacks he could grab in a giant bag next to him. He's never going to get through them all. It was just fun to take them.

He'll be here for a little while, observing and making mental notes.

Comments

[thedevilinyourdetails]

The dagger slices clean across Akira's throat, but he just tilts his head, neutral, evaluating. His outfit flicks back to something more standardly-Joker-like, mask becoming a small domino facade and body cloaked in a large cape.

Red gushes out of his throat, alongside black -- the shadow goop is what happens when he's injured mid-transformation. He doesn't think too deeply on it. His face is neutral, devoid of any mockery or contempt. Just looking into his kouhai's eyes as his throat leaks out.

"Good aim, kouhai," he says, a little gurgled but genuine. "A little sloppy. Good form overall, though."

[willowandoak]

"...What the shit."

The whole tableau is so surreal that Ren actually stops to stare for a second. It's impossible for anyone else to see what face he's making behind his mask, but he can feel his expression twist with incredulous, exhausted outrage. "You don't even shut up when I've cut your fucking throat?"

It's an even stupider idea than it was before, but Ren's just—fed up. He's had it. Veles manifests above him again, eerie and menacing, and the crushing force of God's Hand smashes out of the sky towards Akira.

It takes the very last of Ren's strength, as he knew it might. He doesn't quite black out, but he makes a soft noise and crumples to the floor.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

Akira grins, tiredly, as the God Hand dissipates into nothing but a strong breeze by the time it reaches him, palming the revival bead hidden in his glove -- it was thankfully-unneeded insurance, though he'd by lying if he said the slice to his throat didn't make it come really close. A quick flick of his Persona is all he needs to cast a healing spell on himself to patch up the worst of the damage, before he carefully approaches his fallen kouhai. "You good now? Got it out of your system?" He asks, a genuine sort of fond amusement crinkling through his tone as he wisely stays out of melee reach. "I can talk whenever you're ready."

[willowandoak]

Ren looks up and bares his teeth. His hands clench into fists. He starts to reach for his knife, which fell out of his hand when he collapsed—but then he takes off his mask instead and drops it on the floor. He meets Akira's eyes with bleary outrage.

"You smug son of a bitch. We could've been sent home at any time. Was it worth holding off talking to me about my Akechi's survival just so you could giggle to yourself at night about it?"

He isn't screaming anymore, at least. He mostly just sounds tired.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

"Bold of you to assume I find Akechi's death funny. In any universe." In kind, Akira takes off his own mask, twirling it on his finger. "I just...really don't know what to tell you. He figured me out. Then I figured him out. Then he made me actually...feel emotions for the first time in..." a contemplative click, "...four years or so. Then he took my gun and said he'd prove I was human by splattering the insides of my skull across the wall. And then he nearly passed out from his concussion and I gave him a deck of cards with Shido's keywords inside it and booked it."

A shrug. "'Trust him, drop hints if you can, give him something to remember you by' are my sage words of advice, I guess. He's stronger than you think. I don't know how much it helps you, though." His grin is self-deprecating, some sort of bittersweet firsthand knowledge seeping into his lips. "I know it definitely wouldn't've helped me all that much beforehand."

[willowandoak]

The story of Akechi with the gun makes Ren laugh, or at least the soft, lonely sound he makes could have been a laugh in a other life. With a pained groan, he flops onto his back. Fuck, his chest hurts where Akira sliced him open. The asshole. Ren isn't actually sure the wound has stopped bleeding. He blinks apathetically at the ceiling.

"You're the second person who's told me to trust him. Stupidest thing I've ever heard. The fuck does it even matter whether I trust him."

[thedevilinyourdetails]

Akira's grin is lopsided, but genuine. "Fair enough. I don't think either of us got where we are without some serious trust issues." He hums, digging through his cognitive pockets. "If you don't want to, I can't force you to. But maybe consider that he hates or would hate Shido just as much, if not more, than you do. You have a common enemy, at least." Finally, he finds what he's looking for in his pocket; he withdraws two Dr. Salt NEOs and a large chocolate bar, presenting the latter to his fallen kouhai. "Wanna take a snap?"

[willowandoak]

Ren saw Akira using that healing spell. He takes most of the bar for himself and sticks it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

Through a mouthful of chocolate, he says, "I know he does. The Shujin Akechi told me." He swallows. The all-over ache from God's Hand eases immediately, and the wound in his chest starts to knit. "But Akechi will want to change his heart."

[thedevilinyourdetails]

Akira chugs the Dr. Salt NEO in a couple quick gulps. "Whoops, sorry about that." A snap of his fingers and Akira -- belatedly, because that fight did take it out of him -- casts a healing spell on his kouhai using his restored SP. "I assume you have more at stake that makes a change of heart out of the equation for you? As long as he was screwed, I was good either way."

[willowandoak]

He sighs as the healing spell washes over him. He never felt anything like it until he started working with the Thieves. A temporary luxury.

He still doesn't want to get up, though. "He'll incriminate me. 'Yes, I'm awful, I even forced a kid to kill people and mindfuck them, I deserve to be taken out back and shot.' That's the last thing I need. And if anything happens to him, the whole Conspiracy will be looking for me. To make me kill people nonstop until I fall over and die. Or sell me to a trafficker, or keep me for themselves. Depends on who finds me. Open season."

His voice is hollow. His gaze has lost focus; he's gone somewhere else.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

"So," Akira sums up, sitting down next to him, looking up at the ceiling of Mementos, "the Conspiracy knows who you are, regardless of whether or not you do anything to Shido. Sounds like you're screwed either way, but at least if you kill him you get to take him down with you?"

[willowandoak]

It takes Ren a moment to come back from wherever he went and process Akira's words.

"Huh...? If I was screwed either way, I wouldn't even have to think about killing Akechi. I could just kill Shido now and let whatever happens happen.

"No, I have a plan to get out. But I have a little more work to do before I can move against the Conspiracy, and they can't fucking. Spill all their dirty secrets to the cops. It needs to be mental shutdowns."

[thedevilinyourdetails]

"Well, better than what I had when I was your age, kouhai."

[willowandoak]

"Yeah, yeah, you're a fucking fossil."

But then Ren rolls his head to the side to look up at Akira. "...What were you doing?"

[thedevilinyourdetails]

"At your age? Smoking and gambling, mostly. Hanging out at Crossroads. Killing people. The usual."

[willowandoak]

"God. Lala would hate it here," Ren mumbles. Hardly any people, just the fucking cognitions everywhere. "But I meant about Shido. What were you doing about him?"

cw // light reference to past passive suicidal thoughts/ideation

[thedevilinyourdetails]

Well…it’s best he show one of his cards, too; honesty for honesty. “The hard truth?” Akira raises a brow, stretching out with an indescribable look on his face. “Nothing in particular. Thinking about if I’d leave a beautiful corpse, mostly. Convincing myself I already was one.”

[willowandoak]

The platform is silent for a moment as Ren takes that in; then he sighs. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I feel that."

There's not much else to say.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

A few moments pass in quiet, Akira chugging his second Dr. Salt NEO. Eventually, he takes out a pack of cigarettes, raising it in a silent question. Do you mind if I have a smoke?

[willowandoak]

"Go ahead."

His voice sounds hollow. He hates it.

"Is that why your Akechi threatened to shoot you? To prove you had real living brains? Because I gotta say, that sounds counterproductive."

Imagine if Ren's own Akechi would do something like that for him, knowing everything. Or at least knowing Ren planned to kill him. Akira is lucky.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

Akira takes out his lighter, does a little trick with it, and lights a cigarette up. He takes a drag and chuckles, something dark in his tone.

"Well, it's not like the police have ever been kind to prisoners. And considering the thugs on guard were Shido's men...you can imagine the kind of state he was in."

[willowandoak]

Yeah, Ren knew that one already. And Shido's mentioned it to him, even, the state the leader of the Thieves will be in. Not able to threaten the operation, which means not able to threaten Ren as he walks in and holds a gun to Akechi's head, which means—well, Ren knows what it means.

So the look he turns on Akira isn't stricken or horrified so much as it is just... miserable.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

There's a lot Akira could say, but he lets the silence sink in for a moment. Talking has long since become something of a self-defense mechanism for him (being quiet means fading out of relevance, being quiet means there's nothing left to fill the void), but the more he interacts with and watches the other Not-Hims here, the more he realizes just how out-of-place it is for Them, as a whole. The Ren-Akira-collective. The Joker archetype. Whatever.

He doesn't have much chance to enjoy the quiet, nowadays. So he takes a moment here and does, smoking a cigarette on the dirty Mementos floor, letting Ren...do whatever he needs to do, mentally. He tries to give him an empathetic (or is it sympathetic?) "yeah, I know, I've been there, it sucks" smile. He's not sure he succeeds.

[willowandoak]

There are words that want to be spoken. Not for the first time, either, but he's ignored them before because there was no one he could say them to, and they didn't matter anyway. There was nothing he could fucking do about it if he wanted to survive.

That's still probably true. But here, lying on the floor of Mementos next to Akira, he can't swallow them back down anymore.

"I don't want that." He lets out a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want that to happen to him."

It feels like pulling the lid shut on his own coffin. It feels like a release.

[thedevilinyourdetails]

"You're a better person than me," Akira hums. "I don't know how to get him out of it, or if it's even possible. I don't know how to get you out of it. But the Conspiracy...they're just people, at the end of the day. I've been dodging 'em for two years and counting. There is a way out. For both of you. Might end up needing to fake your death for a few years, but...fake death is better than real death." Akira gives him a thumbs up.