linkclickakira: (Default)
[personal profile] linkclickakira

"Second death"


TW: death, gore, damaged flesh, suicide, possible panic attack in the threads

Ask first in DMs before rping.













Akira knew what he was doing.

This had happened before. A gun against his head and a trigger being pulled. Such simple actions, isn't it? Humanity had made it their sole birthright to use their intelligence in uprooting each other from their very bones and flesh as if their words and small actions weren't enough. Letting something wager someone's death on its other end- the sole duty of a gun and Akira had callously thrown away his life with it. As he always does. When Goro stood on the other side of the table, telling him things didn't have to turn this way if he just stayed away the moment he told him to. When he watched behind the door at the young grieving girl who blamed herself for her mother's death.

When he killed him. In anger. In frustration. In sheer fucking betrayal.

Except something was wrong.

He felt wrong.

He should have awakened to his previous picture amongst the crowds in his own world. He had a plan. He would be away from this otherworldly hell-hole and once again savour the one year he has in order to save everyone he cares about.

But then...what was this? He couldn't move. He was floating somewhere, his face facing a large gaping abyss. A sea of sorts, his chest heavy as he finds himself floating like the very particles of sand in an hourglass. His fingers weren't responding to him. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream. What the hell went wrong here? Where is he?!


"It seems you are not enjoying the amenities of this world to the fullest, trickster," he hears a familiar voice speak but fuck it's everywhere. It's wiggling in his ears, itching into his eardrums; it's blaring through his whole body, shaking him to the very core. "I was hoping the first death would have been our last but- it certainly doesn't seem like it now."

The long-nosed man's uncanny grin looks up at the suspended floating body of Kira. A clear bullet hole at the centre of his forehead with blue gleaming from the injury's core- as if healing him from within. Regenerating back as if nothing had happened in the first place.

"What a shame."
linkclickakira: (observing)
[personal profile] linkclickakira

Intro RP Post


TW: death, gunshot, suicidal attempt (only referenced!!)

Further info about him here (POWERS updated)!











Akira had thought he had gotten used to the concept of multiple timelines.
After all, he had been wrapped up in his own little cobwebs of grief and lies; circulating into themselves as the boy felt like he was trapped under the very sands of an hourglass- breathless for another chance. Another photo. Not like it mattered after some point where he moved from-
-preventing that gunshot to go off at the interrogation table
-killing the corrupt politician when he crossed paths with him the third time-
-watching his bright eyed detective smile at him as he pulls the trigger of the barrel resting on his head-


Stop.

He shouldn't think about all of that right now. There's a reason why he did all of this. From the lies, the torture, the grief and the murders attached to it. "The ends would justify the means" was his mantra like it was that very detective's mantra as he dragged him to a rabbit hole he couldn't escape from. Tch, who was he kidding- he couldn't blame him for his problems. He chose to do this and now his foot was already halfway and out of the fucking door.

His own grave.




Option 1: Say Cheese!

One would think with how the very aspect of photographs acted like metaphorical chains for the young man, he would learn his ways and attempt to stay away from them if only to allay his own anxiety but for him- photography was one of his many hobbies when he was a kid. The little blue butterflies fluttering in the parks to the grassy paddy fields that stretched for acres- in those little innocent moments Akira didn't have this accursed power and even now, as he briefly clings to the camera- those memories kept him grounded. The weight of his camera with its polished dark red strap around his neck remained ever so obvious as he walked down the streets of Shibuya, unsure of what to do now that the long-nosed man had told him he was stuck here. He was convinced it had something to do with...everything he did but really adding him into a place like this is asking for trouble. Not that he would listen to him.

Don't worry. You will come to realize that bonds and happiness can be accomplished without breaking your timeline.

Whatever that meant, Igor.

He rolls his eyes and adjusts the lens of his camera before holding it up and aiming it at the busy streets of Shibuya Square, watching the crowd pass by.

CLICK!

Oh, he wasn't expecting the sudden turn back from the stranger while he still has his camera aimed at them, assuming they would just ignore him as the rest of the other...cognitions here. Whatever that means. With everything he's done he's a bit glad he can just do what he wants without consequence. "Oh um," he lowers his camera. "...Did you see me do that?"

He had asked that question at another cognition before when they turned to look at him as he took a picture of their outfit. They just tilted their head at him then denied him with a laugh before continuing forward. He was expecting this interaction to go like that.







Option 2: How does all of this work?

Akira finds himself at the backalleys of Central Street this time, more specifically leaving a specific shop with a bright green neon sign and the words Untouchable etched on it. There's a gun in his hands as he flips it over- staring down at its model. Surprisingly enough, the usual owner who was very upset with him in multiple timelines isn't present here but if he learned enough about cognitions from the supposed future forseer of his world- he could probably make cognition percieve it to be a real gun, right?

He aims the gun at one of the policemen standing on the other side of the street rather callously, chin tilting as he regards the recoil he might endure if he actually fired a shot. The good thing was if he pushed his limits too much, he could just go back in time to the square again where he took the photo. As long as no real person is involved, it should be fine, right?


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