It's not the subdued rage of Joker or the volatile anger in his own twisted heart - it's a combination of the two. Simmering. It's an explosion waiting to happen and Akechi-
Can't wait for the day it spills over into something distorted and new.
Maruki has been mad at him. Their interactions aren't always calm. Rarely, these days. Too many truths seeping through the frayed edges of their image, too much comfort in their similarities to keep hidden. Akechi's disturbed by how easy it was to settle into.
But he rips his gaze away - the false Shido's voice is static to his ears. It doesn't matter. He hates the pathetic amalgamation more because it's a fucking taunt on a goal within reach in reality. This shitty copy-
Infuriates him.
It says something - Akechi doesn't register a word and a choice pops up over a request he didn't understand, dialogue bubbles appearing from sharp points against their table.
> Accept > Decline
And Akechi doesn't hesitate to slam his hand against the > Accept option, even while the creature is still posturing. Mumbling. Twisting pretty little lies into promises that settle and slot perfectly into his skull.
He didn't ask to kill - Akechi knows that. He never asks for that first. It's subtle, little things that become larger, more grandiose. Cause a psychotic break - that person is evil. Make their employee cause a scandal - the corporation owes too much.
Turn a gun on father who gave up his life for a false idol.
Turn a gun on a mother whose only crime was acquiring knowledge.
QUEST ACCEPTED - a deluge of lines appear on a table note. Akechi ignores it and waits -
For the creature to approve. Nod and disperse into distorted body parts made of gold that clatter to the ground. The promise of riches scattering at their feet. An arm from a statue touching Akechi's heel.]
This world is something else, isn't it?
[And he takes another sip of disgusting, cold coffee.]
no subject
It's not the subdued rage of Joker or the volatile anger in his own twisted heart - it's a combination of the two. Simmering. It's an explosion waiting to happen and Akechi-
Can't wait for the day it spills over into something distorted and new.
Maruki has been mad at him. Their interactions aren't always calm. Rarely, these days. Too many truths seeping through the frayed edges of their image, too much comfort in their similarities to keep hidden. Akechi's disturbed by how easy it was to settle into.
But he rips his gaze away - the false Shido's voice is static to his ears. It doesn't matter. He hates the pathetic amalgamation more because it's a fucking taunt on a goal within reach in reality. This shitty copy-
Infuriates him.
It says something - Akechi doesn't register a word and a choice pops up over a request he didn't understand, dialogue bubbles appearing from sharp points against their table.
> Decline
And Akechi doesn't hesitate to slam his hand against the > Accept option, even while the creature is still posturing. Mumbling. Twisting pretty little lies into promises that settle and slot perfectly into his skull.
He didn't ask to kill - Akechi knows that. He never asks for that first. It's subtle, little things that become larger, more grandiose. Cause a psychotic break - that person is evil. Make their employee cause a scandal - the corporation owes too much.
Turn a gun on father who gave up his life for a false idol.
Turn a gun on a mother whose only crime was acquiring knowledge.
QUEST ACCEPTED - a deluge of lines appear on a table note. Akechi ignores it and waits -
For the creature to approve. Nod and disperse into distorted body parts made of gold that clatter to the ground. The promise of riches scattering at their feet. An arm from a statue touching Akechi's heel.]
This world is something else, isn't it?
[And he takes another sip of disgusting, cold coffee.]