There is actually one area in which we agree entirely here, but in a more roundabout way.
I've found in my practice that when people are quick and eager to share about those from their realities who aren't here, they mostly talk about who those people were in relation to them. I could tell you all about how our fellow dreamers feel about their family members or closest friends or lost loves, but I could tell you very little about who those people actually were.
It isn't a bad thing, necessarily. I can't truly know those people through them anyway. It's just something that I've noticed. The way we speak about others says a lot about how we value perception.
[ Why did he go out of his way to try to paint all of the brilliant, flawed facets of Rumi for Akechi? Exactly that reason. She wasn't only his fiancée. She was herself. ]
Anyway, all that to say, it makes sense why you haven't said anything.
Full of unyielding will, huh. What else was he like?
Perhaps they don't know either. Outside of what they can get or what they're given by those close to them, most tend to operate on conscious or unconscious exploitation. Of course, despite the connotation of the word, it's not a bad thing. Hobbes and the study around psychological egoism touched on it - overall, it's interesting.
[There's a elongated pause at the follow-up. Hilarious, that Akechi is even considering the validity of discussion when he spent the last few texts stating it's better to remember a corpse.
But he doesn't always remember a corpse and-
Maruki probably met him. Knew him. Has an entirely different world wrapped around him. Perception and loss. Perception and memory.
Akechi hates Joker - more than anything. Vile words spilling at his fingertips about how he deserved to die, at how the life of a such a special, wonderful, beloved person ended alone, lost, in the depths of the stone cold room after being sold out by a 'friend'.]
He was a Joker.
[Comes out against his will. Another person taking control of his body. He feels sick.]
Intelligent. Driven by the injustice of the world. Powerful.
Fun.
I considered him my rival in every way. Losing to him was unacceptable and he gave me a run for my money in every area - arcade games, philosophical thought, grades. He mastered almost everything with ease. It was quite a sight to behold.
[That fucking attic trash - there was no stopping it. He hates him. Loathes him. Wishes he kept his gaze a little longer before he pulled the trigger.
His stomach churns and twists in his gut - spinning and coiling throughout his body.]
Reckless, but not foolish. Nothing was out of reach, despite how the world looked down on him. It's unfortunate things ended up as they did.
It's not anything to Maruki, but it's not nothing in the grand scheme of things, either.
Facts, immutable, in black and white: Someone who was a rival in every way, in every area. Unyielding will. Preternaturally skilled at seemingly everything. Looked down on by the world.
Facts, immutable, from his own life: Three teenagers stumbling into an alleyway as if dropped there out of the clear blue sky. One who sat in his office and quietly guided his hand as he drew closer and closer to the truth. One who had time for everyone, for everything – enjoyed and even excelled at every hobby, every sector of his academics – persevered despite how the world spit on him – never complained, never faltered. One who heard Maruki call him a Phantom Thief and couldn't deny it.
Conjecture that has sat in the back of Maruki's mind since the very first moment they met in the chaotic marketplace: His ceaseless decrying of the Phantom Thieves and their actions to the media. If anyone were to be a rival, it would be their leader– their Leader, stepping into the light on every television screen in Tokyo, eyes as bright and honest as they'd been every day greeting Maruki in the halls of Shujin.
Pieces that don't quite fit: Akechi's obfuscated history in the cognitive world, and the Phantom Thieves' heavy involvement in it. Even if he's telling the truth about knowing very little about it, the extent of their meddling would surely be known to him.
Maruki is a researcher, a man for whom good enough is never actually good enough. The picture that he has in his head is as close to complete as it can be without direct confirmation, but not so complete that he could build a solid theory out of it.
He wants to say something. Can't. Maddening. The shape of it is right there before him, hazy and undefined. ]
There's incredible value in the people that we're close to, even if we can't necessarily call them friends. Those who push us to strive harder and be better, even if we fail. I wonder if he saw you in a similar fashion. Perhaps you two were each other's guiding lights, in a way.
Ah, that sounds too sentimental, doesn't it. Well, I won't take it back.
I won't say to you that remembering isn't always such a bad thing. I'll just thank you for sharing that with me even if it goes against your morals on the matter.
[ Akechi isn't going to remember him as a corpse at all. ]
[Guiding lights? Sentimental and a downright lie all in one. Akechi knows how Joker would see him now. None of it is positive. It shouldn't be. If he was smart-
If he wasn't the same degree of sentimental fool as Maruki, he wouldn't.
But he did, once, see him as a rival. They spoke about it. Fought over it. Akechi knows it was a shared sentiment. It's what it made it such a driving force between them.
Seeing it plainly - written out from another is jarring. Comforting. Makes him want to puke.]
Perhaps. I'll never know now and there's no sense in posturing on how he saw our relationship. Maybe he secretly hated me all along - wouldn't that be funny?
[Hilarious, honestly.]
To be frank, I don't know why I told you. It was a somewhat unnecessary deviation of our previous topic, so I thank you for letting me go off track.
Unrelated, I suppose this is good as time as any to inform you I won't be at dinner. I haven't felt well for a couple days, so I plan to rest for most of the evening.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I've found in my practice that when people are quick and eager to share about those from their realities who aren't here, they mostly talk about who those people were in relation to them. I could tell you all about how our fellow dreamers feel about their family members or closest friends or lost loves, but I could tell you very little about who those people actually were.
It isn't a bad thing, necessarily. I can't truly know those people through them anyway. It's just something that I've noticed. The way we speak about others says a lot about how we value perception.
[ Why did he go out of his way to try to paint all of the brilliant, flawed facets of Rumi for Akechi? Exactly that reason. She wasn't only his fiancée. She was herself. ]
Anyway, all that to say, it makes sense why you haven't said anything.
Full of unyielding will, huh. What else was he like?
cw: murder, violent thoughts
[There's a elongated pause at the follow-up. Hilarious, that Akechi is even considering the validity of discussion when he spent the last few texts stating it's better to remember a corpse.
But he doesn't always remember a corpse and-
Maruki probably met him. Knew him. Has an entirely different world wrapped around him. Perception and loss. Perception and memory.
Akechi hates Joker - more than anything. Vile words spilling at his fingertips about how he deserved to die, at how the life of a such a special, wonderful, beloved person ended alone, lost, in the depths of the stone cold room after being sold out by a 'friend'.]
He was a Joker.
[Comes out against his will. Another person taking control of his body. He feels sick.]
Intelligent. Driven by the injustice of the world. Powerful.
Fun.
I considered him my rival in every way. Losing to him was unacceptable and he gave me a run for my money in every area - arcade games, philosophical thought, grades. He mastered almost everything with ease. It was quite a sight to behold.
[That fucking attic trash - there was no stopping it. He hates him. Loathes him. Wishes he kept his gaze a little longer before he pulled the trigger.
His stomach churns and twists in his gut - spinning and coiling throughout his body.]
Reckless, but not foolish. Nothing was out of reach, despite how the world looked down on him. It's unfortunate things ended up as they did.
no subject
It's not anything to Maruki, but it's not nothing in the grand scheme of things, either.
Facts, immutable, in black and white: Someone who was a rival in every way, in every area. Unyielding will. Preternaturally skilled at seemingly everything. Looked down on by the world.
Facts, immutable, from his own life: Three teenagers stumbling into an alleyway as if dropped there out of the clear blue sky. One who sat in his office and quietly guided his hand as he drew closer and closer to the truth. One who had time for everyone, for everything – enjoyed and even excelled at every hobby, every sector of his academics – persevered despite how the world spit on him – never complained, never faltered. One who heard Maruki call him a Phantom Thief and couldn't deny it.
Conjecture that has sat in the back of Maruki's mind since the very first moment they met in the chaotic marketplace: His ceaseless decrying of the Phantom Thieves and their actions to the media. If anyone were to be a rival, it would be their leader– their Leader, stepping into the light on every television screen in Tokyo, eyes as bright and honest as they'd been every day greeting Maruki in the halls of Shujin.
Pieces that don't quite fit: Akechi's obfuscated history in the cognitive world, and the Phantom Thieves' heavy involvement in it. Even if he's telling the truth about knowing very little about it, the extent of their meddling would surely be known to him.
Maruki is a researcher, a man for whom good enough is never actually good enough. The picture that he has in his head is as close to complete as it can be without direct confirmation, but not so complete that he could build a solid theory out of it.
He wants to say something. Can't. Maddening. The shape of it is right there before him, hazy and undefined. ]
There's incredible value in the people that we're close to, even if we can't necessarily call them friends. Those who push us to strive harder and be better, even if we fail. I wonder if he saw you in a similar fashion. Perhaps you two were each other's guiding lights, in a way.
Ah, that sounds too sentimental, doesn't it. Well, I won't take it back.
I won't say to you that remembering isn't always such a bad thing. I'll just thank you for sharing that with me even if it goes against your morals on the matter.
[ Akechi isn't going to remember him as a corpse at all. ]
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If he wasn't the same degree of sentimental fool as Maruki, he wouldn't.
But he did, once, see him as a rival. They spoke about it. Fought over it. Akechi knows it was a shared sentiment. It's what it made it such a driving force between them.
Seeing it plainly - written out from another is jarring. Comforting. Makes him want to puke.]
Perhaps. I'll never know now and there's no sense in posturing on how he saw our relationship. Maybe he secretly hated me all along - wouldn't that be funny?
[Hilarious, honestly.]
To be frank, I don't know why I told you. It was a somewhat unnecessary deviation of our previous topic, so I thank you for letting me go off track.
Unrelated, I suppose this is good as time as any to inform you I won't be at dinner. I haven't felt well for a couple days, so I plan to rest for most of the evening.
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[ Guess who's gonna get soup anyway! ]
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He's going back to stalk the network.]