[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

[captainkurusu]

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."

[pancakeboy]

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.

[captainkurusu]

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?"

[pancakeboy]

"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.

[captainkurusu]

"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."

[pancakeboy]

"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?"

[captainkurusu]

"Get started all you like," Akira teases. "By all means. No need to stop flattering my ego on my account."

He falls into step with Akechi, jamming his hands casually into his pockets.

"I've observed that the same door can lead to different places. But the mechanism hasn't been explained to me, no."