[Open Intro] a pirate's life for me

[captainkurusu]

I. In the Velvet Room

The sight of an Akira in a long black coat and a high-necked gray vest is no rarity around these parts, but the one currently studying the conspiracy board is different. He has gold earrings, for one thing, and his clothes have a different style: hand-sewn wool and linen, not the slick, modern leather of Metaverse garb. His casual, hands-in-pockets slouch as he studies the conspiracy board, however, should look familiar to almost anyone.

Well. Anyone who knows an Akiren, anyway.

At the sound of anyone approaching him, Captain Akira turns sharply, his right hand flying to the hilt of the cutlass hanging from his belt. Depending on who he sees, he’ll say one of the following things:

If the character approaching him is an Akiren, his eyes widen briefly in surprise. Then he puts his hands on his hips, studying his double with interest. “You look oddly familiar, somehow,” he quips. “I’m afraid I can’t place you, though.”

If the character approaching him is an Akechi, the choked syllable “Go–” escapes him before he can stop it. Then he cuts himself off, smiling in apology. “Excuse me. I mistook you for someone else.”

If the character approaching him is anyone else, he nods a polite greeting and points at the conspiracy board. “Did you write this?” he asks cheerfully. “ ‘For mine own part, it is Greek to me.’ ”

Whether the character he addresses recognizes the quote or not, Akira’s puzzled expression translates its meaning clearly: Hey. What the hell is this?

II. In Tokyo

Tokyo is the last place Akira ought to set foot in--so of course, it’s the first place he does. To his disappointment, the city beyond the door is all but unrecognizable, full of bright lights and strange buildings and marvels Akira can’t begin to puzzle out. Even so, a vague familiarity remains, an instinct leading him deeper and deeper into the urban sprawl.

Any character passing through Shibuya can find Akira just off of Center Street, standing outside the door to Untouchable with a bemused expression on his face. He runs a hand through his messy hair and sighs, turning to smile at whoever is watching him.

“This place has changed a great deal since I saw it last,” he jokes. “Then again, I was a bit preoccupied the last time I was here.”

Comments

I

[fogboundcrow]

There's something distinctly different about this Akira. Or Ren. The golden earrings immediately catch Raven's eyes, even before the more classical attire, evoking a time long gone. But appearances tell stories in and of themselves. There's something new. Something different...

A curious smile unfurls across his lips, and Raven moves closer, and then there's the reaction. A natural one, really. "You'll find your fair share of familiar faces here. There's a reason we all had to pick codenames."

[captainkurusu]

That sure is a much younger--and more adorable--Akechi than Akira has ever seen. Akira nods at the explanation, swallowing the urge to grin. If there's one thing he's certain of, it's that no Akechi of any age would react well to being patronized.

"A very practical resolution to the problem," he agrees. "Captain Akira Kurusu, at your service. Which codename would you happen to be?"

[fogboundcrow]

"Raven, the purveyor of the board's initial insights." Yes, this young teenager just said purveyor, with all the confidence of a child who feels proud of his eloquence. He even lifts his chin a little, one hand over his chest.

But oh, captain. That combined with the clothes paints a vivid image...

"And I assume that by captain, you're referring to a ship? You don't strike me as the military type."

I

[lifeinit]

Well. His clothes are certainly eye-catching, even if textiles aren't Yaeko's usual field.

"No, that would be Raven's work. Is it a matter of not knowing the language, a lack of familiarity with the subject matter, or parts of it not appearing at all?"

[captainkurusu]

"The subject matter, I suppose. It's...a lot to take in, to say the least." She looks familiar, but I can't place her. Stranger and stranger. "But I suppose I'll adapt. May I ask your name?"

[lifeinit]

"Kitagawa Yaeko. Pleased to meet you." With that said, the resemblance will probably click into place - she's still tall and skinny, and there's paint splattered on her clothes (no matter what she tries, she can't avoid it, and has long since given up).

"It's unusual for someone to end up here without at least a little knowledge of the subject matter, though outliers aren't unheard of. Was anything in particular tripping you up?"

1

[willowandoak]

...But despite the change in demeanor, Ren stays where he is, halfway across the room, watching the newcomer with narrowed eyes and muscles coiled to spring into motion. His gaze flickers between Akira's face and his sword.

"You usually greet people like that?" he asks, in what anyone who knows him would recognize as a breathtaking display of hypocrisy.

[captainkurusu]

How strange, to see his own face in something other than a reflection. Stranger still, to see his face at such a tender age. The wariness is to be expected, I suppose. I have no room to judge.

"With poor attempts at humor? Always." Despite his words, Akira lifts his hands to chest-level, palms out to indicate his peaceful intentions. "But I assure you, I mean you no harm. I have enough enemies already; the last thing I need is to start fighting myself."

[willowandoak]

For a long moment, Ren just... watches, sharp-eyed, waiting for the weird newcomer to drop the act, or twitch, or do anything else that raises alarm bells. None of that happens, and as the seconds pass, he starts to have thoughts similar to Akira's. How many times has he reached for his knife when he spots movement out of the corner of his eye? He'll never be over that moment outside the movie theater in Shinjuku, and what could have happened if he'd been just a split second slower to recognize Goro...

But he doesn't like to think about that time, and especially not that specific incident. "It's kinda fun, actually. Fighting other versions of us. I'm not threatening you," he thinks he should probably add, all things considered. "Just something I've learned."

2

[pancakeboy]

When he sees the familiar figure, Akechi's heading for the crepe stall; don't judge him, he lives a hard life in this place, and must make his own fun. It's the second glance, as the figure heads down into the alley towards that ridiculous shop Ren favours, that ticks the box marked unfamiliar.

Dollars to—well, crepes, the Ren and/or Kurusu knows someone is watching him. Akechi would bet his life on that. And he's never seen another of them walking the street in even a facsimile of that outfit, much less with an entire sword. Ren doesn't use swords.

Forgetting his crepe ambitions, he heads down the alley himself, in his usual street clothes, turning up the corner of his mouth in a wry smile as he glances the newcomer over, taking in, more than anything, the difference in cut and weave and style.

"Well, you look as if you're preoccupied very much of the time." The smile twitches upward a notch. "New, I take it?"

[captainkurusu]

Akira shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Guilty on both counts. They're the least of my crimes, I suppose."

Normally, he would introduce himself here, but there seems to be little need. He knows this stranger's name already, and the stranger can clearly surmise his. If this Akechi is anything like Akira's, he'll prefer to skip any pleasantries without a point.

"You seem to know your way around. Have you been here long?"

I

[takutomaruki]

Maruki looks down at the paternity test held in his hand as he once again stepped across the god-forsaken velvet room. He carefully shuts the ominous blue door behind him, remembering his whole ordeal with Shrike and how he was concluded to be a caution's tale for the other young children here.

In some way or another, the doctor did understand his notion- now that he was going to such lengths to try and make sense of the anamoly that resides in his own home.

He walked past and made his way further in, the Aria putting his panging heart at ease yet brimmed with anxiety when he catches sight of someone else in the velvet room.
Long black coat.
Grey vest.

Maruki's eyes narrow down on the golden hoops. He himself was dressed in his usual therapist outfit this time, figuring this would be a usual pass and go type of prefecture. Seems like he was wrong.

For a fleeting moment, his chest tightened, but his eyes quickly caught the gold hoops glinting in the low light, the cutlass at the man’s side. A stark contrast to any version of Akira—or Ren—he’d met here.

The man’s sharp reaction, hand flying to the hilt of his weapon, caused Maruki to falter momentarily. The air of caution was mutual.

Still, Maruki forced himself to exhale slowly, a warm, practiced smile slipping onto his face, even as he felt the simmering unease under his skin. "Oh no, I wouldn’t give myself credit for that," he began, voice steady. He gestured toward the conspiracy board, his other hand tucking the test behind his back, out of view for now. "That particular work belongs to Raven—one of the younger Goro Akechis. I’ve only spoken to him briefly."

"I must say," he continued with a gentle chuckle, carefully moving ahead, "I hadn’t met a Kurusu-kun or an Amamiya here who quotes Shakespeare right out of the gate." His eyes flicked to the board, taking in the stranger’s furrowed brow and guarded posture. "Though I can understand the confusion—it does seem like something meant to baffle more than explain."

[captainkurusu]

The man is a stranger to Akira, but he seems harmless enough. He has no visible weapons, in any case, and his reaction to Akira's sword clearly telegraphs civilian.At the mention of Shakespeare, Akira's eyes light up, and his smile softens into something more genuine.

"A Kurusu, in my case. Though I suppose, given what I could make out--" He gestures at the conspiracy board. "I'll have to find some other name to go by."

Which, considering his two pre-existing aliases have already been claimed, is a bit of a puzzle. Not that he would have relished being Joker again, anyway. The Akechis' codenames mostly follow a pattern, but the--Akiren?--side is pure chaos. The discrepancy amuses Akira deeply. Goro would be Seagull, naturally. And I...well...

His mind remains blank. A problem for another time.

"It's always a pleasure to meet a man who reads," he says, holding out his hand. "I don't believe I caught your name."

I

[warped_ken_amada]

Ken simply happened to go through the Velvet Room at the exact same time, to check if there was any update to the board. He certainly didn't expect a new arrival to stand in front of it.

Despite this, he doesn't change his attitude in the slightest. He still holds himself nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets, a lollipop in his mouth, and a subtle self-confidence shining through. He does remove one of his hands from the pocket it was in to hold his lollipop as he speaks.

"Do I look like an Akechi?" he quips. "Or did you not see the part of the board where Raven claims authorship?"

If Ken notices the implicit threat from the hand on the cutlass, he doesn't show it. (In fact, he does notice, and couldn't care less.)

[captainkurusu]

Akira releases the cutlass upon recognizing Ken, relaxing back into a more casual posture. "Definitely not an Akechi," he says. "But judging by the handwriting on these notes, there must be more than a single author at work."

Translation: yes, he missed that part. He'll be damned before he admits it, though.

II

[tieflinglovers]

Ann was just on her way back from getting one of those phone things Amamiya told her about. It kind of looked like a mini tome or rune tablet if she was being honest. On her way back down central street she sees someone dressed much more familiar, though she'd be lying if she said they looked anything like her Akira.

She won't make that mistake again as she waves him down. "New here?"

[captainkurusu]

He'd be lying if he said she looked anything like his Ann, but the voice and hairstyle are unmistakable. Huh. "How could you tell?" he asks cheerfully. "And here I thought I was blending in so well."

2

[thedevilinyourdetails]

A face just like his but younger pokes out from the door of Untouchable. "I assume the Renaissance Faire getup isn't for show, then?" Quirked lips and a slight smile greet him below grey eyes obscured by a shaggy shock of black hair.

[captainkurusu]

The notice board didn't exaggerate. There really are an awful lot of me around. Akira scratches his neck sheepishly, unsurprised that another him would have beaten him here. "I seem to be out of touch with the local fashion, too," he quips, looking down at himself. "But until I find replacements, taking it off would only cause more of a stir."

I

[youngestdawn]

Oh!! Oh!! New Friend!! New Friend Is Big!! Aki-chan tries to approach the New Friend, but--

--ew. His nose scrunches up.

Preemptively, Aki-chan opens his notebook and scribbles down something on the page and marches right up to New Friend and shows him the page.

Are you allergic to water? You smell like it. I can show you a shower.

[captainkurusu]

The term shower is unfamiliar to Akira, but the message is clear enough. He laughs softly, crouching down to Aki-chan's level.

"No offense taken," he says gently. "Lead the way. I'd be a poor sailor if I couldn't handle getting wet."

II (a few hours later after Cap is all set up)

[unit_8910_wolf]

Central Street in Shibuya bustled with its usual energy—neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement, a mix of chatter and distant music weaving into the city’s rhythm. Among the crowd, Zenkichi sauntered with his usual relaxed gait, hands shoved into the pockets of his long black coat and his hat casting a harsh shadow across his mask pinned to his face. On his wrist, a faintly glowing projector flickered, casting a diminutive holographic Akane into view.

She floated just ahead of him, her Featherman mask slightly tilted as though in thought. “You know, Dad, we really need to talk about your outfit. You aren't on duty anymore you know and shadows are not just going to spawn in out of nowhere-!"

"We still have a few threats going around," Zenkichi shook his head. "I can't afford to let my guard down."

Akane ignores the serious tone Zenkichi was going for and instead hums in mock consideration. "The coat’s fine, I guess, but seriously? The hat? It’s like you’re auditioning for Vigilante: Most Wanted.”

Zenkichi smirked, his tone dripping with mock indignation. “Hey, this look’s classic. Rugged. Mysterious.” He jabbed a thumb toward himself. “It screams experience.”

“It screams midlife crisis,” Akane shot back, crossing her arms with an exaggerated huff. “I’m just saying, you could spice it up a little. Maybe ditch the hat. Maybe add some color. Maybe try a wardrobe designed in this century?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as they approached the unassuming storefront of Untouchable. The name hung in bold neon, industrial lettering, and the windows offered only a glimpse of racks filled with model guns, melee weapons, and gear.

“Tell you what,” Zenkichi said as he reached for the door. “We will go shopping and buy some more clothes then-"

As his fingers brushed the door handle, Zenkichi suddenly stopped, his body going still. A familiar prickle of instinct crawled up his spine. Something wasn’t right.

“Hold up,” he muttered, his tone dropping.

Akane’s holographic form flickered out of the projector and into his visor. “What’s wrong?”

He scanned the shop through the glass. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance but he finally detected heat signatures. A person. “There’s someone here. In the back room.”

No cognitive dissonance detected.

Akane’s tone sharpened. “There’s someone, all right. But there’s no cognitive reading. Not a Shadow. Not a Persona user. Just…”

“Someone,” Zenkichi finished, hand hovering near his gun. He stood motionless, listening for any further movement. Faint shuffling sounds drifted from beyond the counter.

For a few brief seconds, he weighed his options. Then, he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let his hand fall away from his holster.

“No sign of trouble,” he muttered with a shrug- his mask hiding away the way his gaze relaxed save for the way the stitched scars running from the outer corner of his left eye, a few millimetres off as it eased into a solid line to his mouth. “Guess it’s just some night owl poking around. Or maybe the owner’s working on something off-menu.”

“You’re just gonna waltz in there?” Akane asked, her tone carrying an edge of disbelief.

“If they don't have a persona it's not a problem for me,” Zenkichi said, grinning as he pushed the door open. “I’ve got it under control.”

The familiar scent of gun oil and leather greeted him as he stepped inside. The dim lighting cast long shadows over the neatly arranged racks of equipment, the metallic gleam of model weapons catching the light. Zenkichi moved toward the counter with casual ease, but his eyes scanned the shop carefully.

[captainkurusu]

Someone is here.

Akira tenses at the noise, suddenly wary. He sets down his armful of ropes as quietly as he can and puts a hand on his sword hilt instead, edging over toward the door of the forge to size the newcomer up. For once, it's no one he recognizes--not by voice, and certainly not behind that mask. Hidden by the wall, Akira keeps his wary silence, waiting for the stranger to leave or announce his intentions.

2

[tricksterviolet]

Briar doesn't usually visit Untouchable, but she wants to make sure she is well-equipped for what's to come involving the battle against Ken Amada. So of course, she would go to the one place she would always go to for reliable weapons and customization.

She turns away from the counter after making sure everything is accounted for, and begins to open it... only to come face to face with a face that makes her stop in place.

"...Ren-senpai?"

Her eyes widen as she quietly utter the name... before she regains her regains herself. No, obviously this isn't her Ren.

"Ah, I mean... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume you were an Amamiya-san. Can I help you with something?"

Her tone is reserved and quiet, strangely lacking as much energy. She's trying her best to be polite, but the smile on her face, while sheepish, feels almost sad somehow.

[captainkurusu]

This girl is younger than his own Yoshizawa, but the familiarity is uncanny, all the same. Akira offers her a warm, welcoming smile. "It's quite all right. I've been having a similar reaction to people all day."

What relationship do we have in her world, I wonder? Judging by her disappointment, it would be unkind to ask.

"Captain Kurusu, at your service," he says, bowing politely. "Don't let me interrupt what you were doing; I'm just setting a few things up in the back room."