personavelvetroomdr | [Open Intro] a pirate's life for me

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[Open Intro] a pirate's life for me

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.”

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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?"

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?"

Guilty on both counts, is it? Akechi's little smile continues its stealthy crawl upwards, becoming ever so slightly sharper. He can imagine Ren saying that in just the same way, letting it conceal a multitude of sins—though concealment, here, is clearly the least of it.

"You could put it that way. I've been here since the beginning, as far as any of us know. Not that it's such a privilege." Though alternatives to that possibility—since the beginning—are abundant, and he has had time to consider them. He gives the newcomer another once-over, not troubling to conceal it, noting the glint of gold at his ears, and in particular, the style of the sword handle; he looks up to the storefront.

"This is a curious place to make your first stop." Especially when you're already so extravagantly armed.

Edited 2025-01-18 03:26 (UTC)

Two things are now abundantly clear to Akira. First, for whatever reason, this particular Akechi hates it here. Second, he--Akira--is being sized up. The second point doesn't surprise him, though he pretends not to notice. The first, though? The first gives him pause.

What does he know about this world that I don't?

"Someone I know lived in this spot, back where I come from. I suppose without that context, it does look strange." Akira raises his eyebrows. "Which is precisely why I could use a more experienced man's advice. My own memories clearly aren't predictive. What things about this place do you think a newcomer should know?"

No doubt Akechi will notice the flattery is a diversion, a bit of verbal grease to slide the conversation toward Akira's questions and away from Akira's past. With any luck, Akechi will enjoy the sop to his pride too much to care.

And indeed, predictably, it's the flattery that makes him blossom, though that blossom's edged with poison, and hung about with knives. He even laughs a little in amusement, a polished thing with a faint discord to it. So the newcomer has greater concerns than revealing himself immediately to a stranger? Akechi can respect that.

"Not bad," he offers, still with a little of that strange amusement to him. "In fact, I couldn't have done better myself—I'm sorry, are you an Amamiya-san or a Kurusu-san? I'm the one known as Magpie, if you read the board."

He can both respect it, and observe it. After all, some people are just private—and others have something worth bothering to hide. The old-time air of the newcomer reminds him of nobody so much as Lotus, the fae; the reason they all try to hide their names now. Lotus may be the Akira of his world, but there are always others. And just because Akechi enjoys the game, that doesn't mean he'll immediately pay out.

This Akechi is--unsurprisingly--sharp. Akira grins, offering him a playful oops, you caught me! bow. His own questions have gone unanswered, too, but Akira doesn't mind. Whatever dangers exist here can wait. Matching wits with an Akechi is (usually) a damned good time.

"Kurusu," he confirms. "Captain Kurusu, of the pirate sloop Phantom. It's a pleasure."

There. That should mollify some of Akechi's curiosity, and it's a subject Akira doesn't mind being questioned about. He watches Akechi with a smile, curious to see how this one will react.

Perhaps amusingly, perhaps strangely, this Akechi reacts much like the boy in the Velvet Room, with a delighted, wide-eyed grin that he quickly switches out for something more restrained. "A pirate. You know, at this point I'm barely surprised. At your service, Captain."

He offers a little bow of his own, matching the jaunty air. Ren—or Kurusu, as it turns out this one is—would be a pirate. "You're going to have to watch out for Raven. And the other children, of course, but mostly Raven. He's our primary investigator. He'll want to know everything about you. But I have the feeling you know how to spin a yarn or two."

There's an odd note of irony on primary investigator, as if it ought to have been someone else—but, equally, he can't conceal his hard-won affection for Raven.

It's strange to Akira how much allure his profession holds among people capable of far more exciting deeds than his, but he certainly isn't complaining. He brushes his unruly, windswept hair out of his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Primary investigator, or primary instigator?" Akira quips. "Either way, I appreciate the tip. Are there many children around here? In my experience, they tend to run in packs."

"That's one way of putting it," Akechi agrees, letting himself grin. Primary instigator—well, isn't that just the perfect description of Raven? "Look around, you'll see them. They tend to cluster by age."

Raven and Wagtail, Raven's Ren and the less-disastrous Amada, and the ones who come and go, like Wolf and the younger Sakura. And then there's Hawk and Aki-chan, both of them blossoming by now. Wildflowers being trained to a hothouse garden, with all the inevitable consequences. His face clouds over.

Clearly deciding Akira's passed some test, he looks back. "You wanted to know what I'd tell a newcomer about this place," he says, abruptly. "I won't be so trite as to say watch your back, or expect the unexpected—though that is what this place specialises in. Along with endless stretches of the most interminable boredom. You might meet anyone you've known. Or, more likely, you'll meet them somehow changed. Beyond recognition.

"And then there are the other things it can do." He's looked away from Akira again, to some uncertain point away down the alley, brooding and pensive.

Akira listens with rapt attention, watching Akechi's expressions closely. Tedium punctuated by danger is nothing new to him. He just wishes the danger weren't so tantalizingly vague.

"Other things?" he prompts gently.

There is a flash of polished smile, something long-practiced and now rusty from disuse; it doesn't last. "Yes, that does make it sound ominous, doesn't it? Perhaps it should.

"The long and the short of it is that we're subject to Igor's whims. One day he might pull out your deepest secrets and present them to strangers. The next, he might force some unsettling transformation on you. Recently many of us became animals, or spirits. He also likes to force people back to childhood, though that seems to be more specific. I went through that myself. Another of us is going through it right now."

He scowls, and the brief smile might never have been. "It's like being imprisoned by a child."

Whatever answer Akira was hoping for, it certainly wasn't that. A flicker of genuine fear peeks through his composure, and his smile hardens into something more wry.

"How charming," he says, his voice as dry as dust. "I assume either killing or bribing him have already been tried?"

"You know, I'm not sure anyone has tried bribing him. I'm not convinced there's anything we have that he wants. His story is that he's brought us all here to facilitate bonding." And, for all that his strange adopted family as good as proves Igor's point, he almost spits the word.

"As for killing him?" An odd note enters his voice; he'll never like the thought of Drake. "That has certainly been tried."

He leaves the fear unremarked. They are, to coin a phrase, in the same boat.

Edited 2025-01-21 22:58 (UTC)

"As I expected." Grimacing, Akira rubs the back of his neck. "I'll try the bribery, then. I have some experience in sweet-talking my jailers...albeit with mixed success."

They're in the same boat--the same brig, even--and Akechi answered his initial question. The least he can do is satisfy a bit of Akechi's curiosity in return.

"Oh?" That sounds like a hell of a story, and Akechi is curious. But his eyes shadow, despite his interest. Putting Ren and jailers together in his head—there's only one place that can go.

Only one place Akira would admit to, yes. "I tried to confront an old captain of mine some months back and ran into your counterpart standing in the way. He's a damnably good swordsman, which was lucky for him--and for his gangrenous prick of a captain, too. Rather less lucky for me, though. In the short term, at least."

Yeah, his face locks up tight, even if part of him leaps at the mention of his apparently-pirate other-self's skills. Gangrenous prick is a vivid turn of phrase, and can call to mind only one man.

"Shido." He spits the name out as if it tastes bad. "So he's just as much of a curse, even in a world as different as yours?"

Akira knows that look. Akira has worn it.

"That's the one," he says drily. "He's a Madicce Company merchant captain in my world, the sort of vicious, petty tyrant no wise man would dare to cross. But as you can probably tell, I've never been wise."

He gives Akechi a grim, gallows smile. "I won't presume to know your exact circumstances with him. But you have my condolences, whatever they are."

Rather than go into the personal details, even with such a simpatico listener, he settles safely on the facts. "Masayoshi Shido is—a politician, in my world. A parasite. He's likely to be the next prime minister of Japan. Due entirely to his manoeuvring and scheming, you understand, and not to any skill for leadership, of which he has little, or virtue, of which he has none."

And to his exploitation of others, he doesn't say. Never mind Kurusu himself, what might his other self have endured, under Shido's command? What might he have been forced to do, trapped with that man in the close confines of a long-ago ship?—a ship, really, of all the things. He can't suppress his disgusted hiss, and he can't quite remove the worn-in outrage from his eyes.

"But likewise. There isn't a more vindictive man walking." A beat passes. I've never been wise, is it? "Did you get him? Or your Akechi, I suppose."

Edited 2025-01-24 05:17 (UTC)

Masayoshi Shido ruling over Japan. A horrifying prospect, yet one Akira can imagine all too well. Would that have been better or worse, I wonder? If he had more power and more subordinates, but I had somewhere to run?

"Not yet," he admits reluctantly. "It took weeks of convincing to bring my Akechi around to the fact he was being used, and my career didn't help my credibility much. By the time he finally decided I was right, it was too late to do much more than escape alive."

A gunbarrel glints in his memory, and the ghost of a rope wraps around his neck. Akira grimaces and pushes those thoughts aside.

"I've taken out the worst of Shido's officers, and Akechi detonated his ship in port. He's been weakened, certainly. But until I put a bullet through his benighted, hairless skull, he's not fucking weakened enough." Akira spits the words like venom, bitter and full of disgust. "I'd fight every devil in Hell to reach him there, if I must."

The outrage in his eyes shifts to something younger and more vulnerable. Their story really is one that tells itself over and over, isn't it? Young, and used, and refusing to look any of it in the face—and so, so stupid, thinking he knew it all. Bitterness lodges in his throat.

"You'd have to fight every devil in Hell just to find him. Astride his frozen throne, right at the bottom." Unwilling to look too nakedly vulnerable—not least because the idea of killing his father outright sits uncomfortably in his chest, lodged in a weakness that refuses to be rooted out—he turns away to look up at the shop.

"You were heading into this place, weren't you? I didn't mean to keep you." Not that he's brushing Akira off, exactly, but it seems they could use a change of subject.

Edited 2025-01-24 09:26 (UTC)

Akira chuffs quietly at the gentle redirect. Yeah, that's fair. Familiar as his face may be, Magpie is still a new acquaintance. He's exposed more vulnerability than he meant to already. Far more than enough for one day.

"I was, but I've reconsidered. For some reason, I now find myself in need of a drink." Akira raises an eyebrow at Akechi, reverting to his usual, good-natured smirk. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find one, do you?"

"A drink? You mean alcohol?" Of course he does, Magpie chides himself. It's one of the things pirates are most notorious for. "I may know a place, actually. Do you know Kichijoji at all?"

Listen, it's not as if the drinking age applies, in this hell they've all found themselves in. And judging by appearances, Kurusu is well over twenty.

"Vaguely, but I suspect my knowledge is well out of date." Akira smooths the front of his vest, as if to emphasize how out of place (and time) he looks. "Would you be willing to show the way? You're under no obligation, mind you. I've already impinged enough on your time."

"Oh, not at all," he says, smooth as you like. "How often, after all, do I get to talk to a pirate? Let alone one with such a familiar face. I'm as bad as any of the younger children, if you once get me started."

Tee hee. But it's not the Detective Prince's plastic manner, not even close. "Has anyone explained the doors to you, so far?"

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captainkurusu - 2025-01-31 17:59 (UTC) - Expand

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