There's a visible tension that pulls his body taut - the strings of a marionette tugged, tugged, tugged until his posture is straight. Perfect. No longer slouching over an iced coffee, no more weakness shown. It's not Shido and it doesn't matter. It's not him and-
Akechi knows that. Can tell because the man didn't come in ready to eviscerate him for allowing such a blunder, as if being transported to this world was his goddamn fault. The pixelated flaws apparent when the figure turns to face them. Smudges on the transparent orange tint in his glasses, sloppy goatee that curls around the wrong edges of his face-
Akechi's been around this man for years. Talked to him for years. Has studied that face for years because his daydreams include thin red lines wrapping around the whites of his eyes into his iris dulls to nothing. It's tinted glasses smashed into his face, until those shards poke out of hollowed cheeks. It's knowing both his hands can wrap around his neck and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze and-
There's a knife in his pocket. There's a gun against his leg. It's not Shido. It might feel better and-
Akechi - low and soft, pulls his thoughts back. Another person here. Maruki. Right. It's not Shido - it's a hollow look alike, gliding to their table with rumbling noise above them getting-
Overrun. Overridden. Akechi's mind is full of static and-
It occurs to him, for a brief moment, Maruki shouldn't be curling his fist, lowering his voice, tensing in all the wrong places. Shouldn't know Shido in a manner that makes the normally complacent and calm man's grip turn knuckle white.
No, he shouldn't know Shido at all. The bar conversation a negging, small thought as-
Akechi smiles, hands folded neatly atop one another, a wild, manic look in his eyes that doesn't match the precise, serene way his voice comes out.
The man's at the table now, hovering over them and pressed against the side. Akechi wants to kill him. Ignores the urge to say Sir.]
I have a quest for you two. A dangerous, perilous one. This truly is an unjust u̴̺̾n̴̼͆j̷̻͛ù̷̖s̵̀͜t̴͖̓ ̸͎̚w̸͎̃o̵͔͠r̸̟̿l̸͕̓d̸̩͆ u̴̺̾n̴̼͆j̷̻͛ù̷̖s̵̀͜t̴͖̓ ̸͎̚w̸͎̃o̵͔͠r̸̟̿l̸͕̓d̸̩͆, but I ask you hear me out.
[Says the booming, snarky voice. One spoken in the corner of quiet offices, after everyone has gone home. One Akechi's heard in I have a new target for you and his stomach flips. Churns. He hasn't blinked and-]
By all means, please state it. You know, you look quite familiar, though I can't place it. Are you in movies?
[What a FUNNY TRICK to PLAY ON AKECHI GORO.]
Well, it doesn't matter. I'll prepare you by saying we likely aren't interested, but we are willing to hear it out.
cw: violent thoughts lmao
There's a visible tension that pulls his body taut - the strings of a marionette tugged, tugged, tugged until his posture is straight. Perfect. No longer slouching over an iced coffee, no more weakness shown. It's not Shido and it doesn't matter. It's not him and-
Akechi knows that. Can tell because the man didn't come in ready to eviscerate him for allowing such a blunder, as if being transported to this world was his goddamn fault. The pixelated flaws apparent when the figure turns to face them. Smudges on the transparent orange tint in his glasses, sloppy goatee that curls around the wrong edges of his face-
Akechi's been around this man for years. Talked to him for years. Has studied that face for years because his daydreams include thin red lines wrapping around the whites of his eyes into his iris dulls to nothing. It's tinted glasses smashed into his face, until those shards poke out of hollowed cheeks. It's knowing both his hands can wrap around his neck and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze and-
There's a knife in his pocket. There's a gun against his leg. It's not Shido. It might feel better and-
Akechi - low and soft, pulls his thoughts back. Another person here. Maruki. Right. It's not Shido - it's a hollow look alike, gliding to their table with rumbling noise above them getting-
Overrun. Overridden. Akechi's mind is full of static and-
It occurs to him, for a brief moment, Maruki shouldn't be curling his fist, lowering his voice, tensing in all the wrong places. Shouldn't know Shido in a manner that makes the normally complacent and calm man's grip turn knuckle white.
No, he shouldn't know Shido at all. The bar conversation a negging, small thought as-
Akechi smiles, hands folded neatly atop one another, a wild, manic look in his eyes that doesn't match the precise, serene way his voice comes out.
The man's at the table now, hovering over them and pressed against the side. Akechi wants to kill him. Ignores the urge to say Sir.]
I have a quest for you two. A dangerous, perilous one. This truly is an unjust u̴̺̾n̴̼͆j̷̻͛ù̷̖s̵̀͜t̴͖̓ ̸͎̚w̸͎̃o̵͔͠r̸̟̿l̸͕̓d̸̩͆ u̴̺̾n̴̼͆j̷̻͛ù̷̖s̵̀͜t̴͖̓ ̸͎̚w̸͎̃o̵͔͠r̸̟̿l̸͕̓d̸̩͆, but I ask you hear me out.
[Says the booming, snarky voice. One spoken in the corner of quiet offices, after everyone has gone home. One Akechi's heard in I have a new target for you and his stomach flips. Churns. He hasn't blinked and-]
By all means, please state it. You know, you look quite familiar, though I can't place it. Are you in movies?
[What a FUNNY TRICK to PLAY ON AKECHI GORO.]
Well, it doesn't matter. I'll prepare you by saying we likely aren't interested, but we are willing to hear it out.