Goro Akechi | good ending (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pheasantboy) wrote2037-01-26 06:17 am
pheasantboy) wrote2037-01-26 06:17 am
[ic] shadow pheasant's mementos inbox
Feel free to tag here, if you want to run into Shadow Pheasant in Mementos.
He doesn't have a phone, and must make his own fun. Be warned that he's level 99 and will attempt to eat all Akirens (and probably many others) on sight.
He doesn't have a phone, and must make his own fun. Be warned that he's level 99 and will attempt to eat all Akirens (and probably many others) on sight.
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With a shudder and a scream, he disincorporates into a black mist that melts into their surroundings and is gone. The room shakes around her. But any human navigator could tell he's still there, shuddering in the walls.
What did happen to him? And why does he want to tell her so badly?
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She knew firsthand what Goro Akechi could be. This feral, half-mad creature...
"I know you're more 'you' than any Shadow should be. I can tell that much. What I want to know is... why? What on earth caused this? Goro... please. You don't have anything to fear from me. You may not be the same person as my own Guest... but I am still sworn to help you, however I can."
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Her amber eyes scanned the tunnels... and, with exaggerated care, she placed a small bottle upon the floor. Barely enough to hold a few swallows of a silver-white liquid that glowed, faintly, in the dim light. A few precious mouthfuls of soma.
And then she sat down against the opposite wall. Simply waiting.
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But it shines. He remembers thinking how attractive soma was, the one time he saw it—not that it had been wasted on him. He saw what it did, though. And he's... so hungry. In silence, the black mist he became drips out of the walls, coalescing around the soma, bottle and all. The mass glows for a moment, for the briefest of seconds. And then he reforms, in the shape of a boy; her boy.
Except for the yellow eyes, of course, and the hate still graven on his face—even if the edge has been taken off it. He lies there on the cold floor, soothed as much as he can be, watching her like an owl would watch.
"What do you want? Not that shit about wanting to hear my story. I mean, what do you really want?"
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"My name is Renée. I am... a Velvet Attendant, assigned to Goro Akechi. I attend. The fact that the one I first met is a different person from you is... a distinction I don't consider to be a difference. Therefore... I feel a need to help you, if I can."
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His gloves claw silently against the floor, like a cat's paws kneading; they feel as much part of him as his face. "I've lost count of the number of you who want to help me, and none of you have the guts. You certainly don't have what it takes."
To kill him, that travesty walking on earth that stole his name and his body. It's self-evident.
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Her expression softened, slightly. "Would you like me to kill you, Goro Akechi? To do so is certainly within my power. But... that is not a solution."
She sighed, closing her eyes. "Perhaps if I understood your full nature, we could find one. And if I exhaust all options and find no solution... I know that my Guest would rather death, than slavery. If there is no alternative, I will grant you this peace."
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Plus, he didn't defy Maruki just to bow and scrape to another powerful entity, did he? His face screws up in determined distaste. "You'd have a price. I'm a Shadow, not an idiot! Besides, what happens to my ego"—the part of him that walks above, the conscious mind—"if you kill me? That's no solution."
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Disbelieving, he waits for the explosion. It doesn't come; he mutters almost to himself, testing the memory of Ren like it's a bad tooth. "Huh. That's strange."
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"Him. That piece of shit. Ren Amamiya." He spits the name like a curse. "I can't usually think about him. What did you do?"
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Her eyes widened. There it was, plain as day, really. The description of the one that was 'pleasant and sweet', which had been so at odds with everything she knew. The cognitive control room around them. The pain, the rage, the complete unwillingness to trust- it settled in her gut like ice, sick and wrong and she couldn't... keep the visceral horror from her face.
It wasn't possible. It didn't compute. That boy had saved her father. Lavenza thought the world of him, surely- surely there was no conceivable universe in which he'd-
"What did he do to you..."
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Though he laughs at first, his outrage builds as he speaks. "What, did you know him? Did you think he was a good boy? A sweet little Trickster?" Unable to contain himself, he comes close to losing his form. "He's weak! Pathetic! He never had what it takes, and he left me to pay the price!"
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She inhaled. Calmed herself. "I can't take that back. I can't undo what's been done, nor would I ever want to take that away from you. But I could never let this- let you- continue in this state. If there's a way to your freedom... I will help you find it, if I can."
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"There's only one way out. You know that. No matter what I do, I'll never be free again." He laughs quietly. "No more than I deserve, of course."
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She hesitated, for a moment, considering how to approach the topic. "He's come from a background very similar to yours. He would understand, I think, better than most, and want to help you as well."
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But it's too much, He'll never trust again, nor put himself in the hands of any powerful person. He's seen; he knows. We're taking the deal...
"Liar!" He explodes out of his form into a seething, indistinct mass, not as hungry as it could be but no less dangerous for that. His voice distorts in her ear. "Take your bullshit somewhere else! I don't care for it! I'll destroy you!"
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