Goro Akechi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
herewardbound) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
songerein2023-05-11 07:12 pm
herewardbound) wrote in songerein2023-05-11 07:12 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN] Out of Kindness
Who: You and people you've dearly missed.
Which: Antagonist Log (Open)
Where: All over Reverein, but mostly around a smiling man in white.
What: Dreams coming true, wrongs righted, and joyful reunions with lost loved ones.
Warnings: MASSIVE spoilers for Persona 5 Royal, mental manipulation including hallucination, memory loss and alteration, discussion of complete personality and history rewrites in extreme cases.
▶ GENTLE MADMAN
¤ A.The skies of Reverein are dark and stormy, but for some reason… not here. A newcomer to the world of dreams, dressed in white with a pair of glasses accenting a soft-featured, smiling face. He seems to have the best of luck, really- wherever he goes, there seems to be a lull in the storms, a brief spot of clear skies and sunshine- or shorter lines at the shops, or maybe an accidental extra bun in the box you grab at the bakery. For whatever reason, around the stranger things just… seem to go well.
And, should you approach him, you'll find him… easy, to talk to. His voice is soft, his expression friendly, and he always takes an interest. Easy to talk to, to open up to. Questions diverted with a joke or a laugh, an offering of food and a friendly ear making it damnably difficult to actually dislike him. Besides, he says he's a professional counselor, and that anything you say to him is, of course, in confidence and not to be shared.
What could it hurt? With all these nightmares running loose, no-one could deny that a little mental health care would be a good thing.
And, should you approach him, you'll find him… easy, to talk to. His voice is soft, his expression friendly, and he always takes an interest. Easy to talk to, to open up to. Questions diverted with a joke or a laugh, an offering of food and a friendly ear making it damnably difficult to actually dislike him. Besides, he says he's a professional counselor, and that anything you say to him is, of course, in confidence and not to be shared.
What could it hurt? With all these nightmares running loose, no-one could deny that a little mental health care would be a good thing.
¤ B.When he's not around, however, things seem to be actively getting worse. Shadows are appearing in Reverein, already a problem in and of itself- but around budding Antagonists, they're worse somehow, their forms warping to match the Antagonists' desires, protecting them, following orders. They'll have to be dealt with.
Bizarrely, a small handful simply aren't being a problem. They dress like hospital orderlies, their demeanors almost helpful… unless, of course, you've interacted with the smiling man- and refused his help. Then their true nature comes through, and they become very nasty indeed.
Bizarrely, a small handful simply aren't being a problem. They dress like hospital orderlies, their demeanors almost helpful… unless, of course, you've interacted with the smiling man- and refused his help. Then their true nature comes through, and they become very nasty indeed.
▶ ROYAL DAYS
¤ A.As concerning as the influx of monstrosities and megalomaniacs is, in the moment you might find it hard to care, very much. Ever since meeting that smiling man, things have turned out for the best. A familiar face appears- perhaps a long-dead loved one, suddenly brought to the land of dreams. Or an estranged friend, maybe, hoping to reconcile. Stranger things have happened, right?
Or maybe you've started to remember a wholly different sequence of events. Choices you regretted, undone in an instant. Hurtful things you said, never spoken. A traumatic event never occurring, or the love of a parental figure, never withheld from you. Whatever the reason, how could you worry about the impending confrontation when your life is so… perfect?
Or maybe you've started to remember a wholly different sequence of events. Choices you regretted, undone in an instant. Hurtful things you said, never spoken. A traumatic event never occurring, or the love of a parental figure, never withheld from you. Whatever the reason, how could you worry about the impending confrontation when your life is so… perfect?
¤ B.Or maybe… you're a little too suspicious, too willful, too well-adjusted already for that to work. Or perhaps you've spotted a contradiction too great to ignore, a remembered event that simply couldn't have happened, because you also remember something that would've made it impossible. In that moment of horrible realization, it all comes rushing back. Whatever figment of the ones you lost fades and dissipates, so much noctaere-black smoke in the wind. Forgotten details suddenly remembered, the skies just as clouded and thunderous as ever.
Maybe you're seeing the slightly glazed-over look in the eyes of the afflicted, the joyful smiles and lack of care. Maybe you've even connected it to the Smiling Man, the one who introduced himself as Doctor Maruki- or maybe you're still searching for the truth.
Whatever the case, the Orderlies- the Shadows, marching about in masked, twisted, humanoid forms- do not like you. At a moment's notice, they attack, hoping to capture, to subdue- to force you to meet with their 'glorious savior' for 'treatment'.
Or maybe you've had the chance to run into the good doctor again, in an environment where he seems so much less happy to see you.
Maybe you're seeing the slightly glazed-over look in the eyes of the afflicted, the joyful smiles and lack of care. Maybe you've even connected it to the Smiling Man, the one who introduced himself as Doctor Maruki- or maybe you're still searching for the truth.
Whatever the case, the Orderlies- the Shadows, marching about in masked, twisted, humanoid forms- do not like you. At a moment's notice, they attack, hoping to capture, to subdue- to force you to meet with their 'glorious savior' for 'treatment'.
Or maybe you've had the chance to run into the good doctor again, in an environment where he seems so much less happy to see you.
▶ THROW AWAY YOUR MASK
¤ A.A special third prompt that will be posted in a few days' time. Those interested in joining the final confrontation should see the sign-up post below.
no subject
A voice echoed in his head. The sound was soft, but felt as if it filled the whole of his being. "How curious... Called to by one not of my get, from a world across the astral." There's a sense of a request, permission asked by the voice, and given by Ralsei. Flashes of memory are drawn to his perception -- the familiar sight of Cecil, vows sworn in his defense. Others more formative, of who he was. Lastly, more recently, of him taking care of the dragons of Songerein, young and old both.
"Ahhh... I see, little one. You've always held my beliefs in your heart, haven't you? This, then, is the least I owe you. A contract... yes. For now, I grant you boon without account."
The voice, now, could be heard by the others. "I grant thee succor, saviour of dragons! Call my name and I shall come."
Who...? It came to Ralsei all at once. He didn't have time to think through what it meant to invoke a deity, not with Maruki atop his throne of power. If he wasn't stopped here... It didn't bear thinking about.
"I call on you... Bahamut!" Blue flames erupted from his body, but they didn't burn. The birds circling his head dipped a wing down, swirling around his face. When the flames abated, in their place was a mask. Silvery-white scales covered it, with blue embers where the eyes would lie. His pinkish horns looked much less silly adorning the mask.
More eyecatching than the change in costume, however, was the dragon twice his size standing at his back, scales of the same color platinum as the mask. The source of that sense of presence earlier was made clear, as Bahamut towered over at least Akechi. "I am thou, thou art I... Across astral sea I answer thy cry, Bahamut!"
no subject
Another concern, though, was that. He'd seen one or two others... taking on the mantle of a story character, but for them it'd been something different, personal. The fact that Ralsei's manifestation had played out like an awakening Persona was... concerning. If this place operated on the same rules as the Metaverse...
"Too many targets, not enough people... dammit. We have to destroy the arms, no matter what. The less that thing can do, the better!" At the very least, he could offer this, drawing forth Freyja to shore up his allies' defenses. They'd have to be careful about this.
Azathoth gazed dispassionately down at the trio, clawed tendrils rising into the air, ready to strike- three, in fact, shifting to defend their master- and to attack. The one on the right gestured, orbs in a sickly blue coalescing around Ralsei, weakening his guard. The leftmost gestured similarly, casting a barrier around Maruki himself, and the third... remained still, for the moment.
Azathoth's eyes burned- and it sent forth a blast of concussive force, a shockwave to drive its attackers back.
no subject
Instead, he raised a hand nearly in time with Akechi, yelling out, "Brace yourselves!" Whatever he was about to do was interrupted by the shockwave that followed. He might have fallen end over end if Bahamut were not at his back, but the pressure wave still stung, leaving his lungs aching. Less, though, than it should have. He shoots a grateful look at Akechi.
To prevent a repeat of the affair, he willed forward his dreamotion -- but rather than the vines he was used to, these were enmeshed with a red aura that sunk into the opposition -- physical manifestation of Matarunda, though he wouldn't know the word. Truthfully, he has no idea what he's doing with Bahamut, and this really doesn't seem like the best time to experiment, but he's just going to have to hope things work out. "That should weaken him! What can you tell us, Akechi?"
no subject
Once again, he was the odd man out, the one without any fucking magic and just his fists to throw.
Call for me... beckon me seriously.
A voice in his head-- he'd had those before, but not like this. Not in a different voice. Something in his head. In the fires bursting out of him.
With me in your corner... why... I'll arm you with what you need to kill the unkillable. Call for me. Summon me. Sign a contract... let's show them what we've got.
"Fine! Fine... shut the fuck up," Blitzø grumbled, fingers grasping around the mask that had formed on his face amidst the flames - a mask that was difficult to read, something horselike and humanlike, with a snake coiling through the eye holes - and tearing it away. Black briefly spilling, but just like with Makima's fight, erupting into a gout of fire. "LOKI!"
A shape emerged from the fires, a sly smirk, a deity shifting appearance and forms but maintaining a devious grin that all too well matched Blitzø's. He leveled his favorite gold percussion pistol at Maruki and those many arms, pulling the trigger. The imp didn't know the ability, but the gesture followed easily from Loki - Riot Gun.
Sorry. This was better written the first time through, but then I hit F5 TTnTT
But the form was different. No armor, no sense of faceless malice. This was Loki, untainted by blind hatred, or Yaldabaoth's desire for control... and the sight of it made something inside him burn, though that- all of that- could be addressed later.
"The arms are fragile. Tear them down, and he won't be able to keep up the assault. Don't let him have an inch."
The effects of Riot Gun had blasted one of the tendrils apart, leaving shreds- and with a gesture from Maruki it was repaired, nightmare energy bringing back what had been destroyed, the faint smile not leaving his face.
The center arm reversed the damage that had been done to Maruki, healing.
The left remained inactive for now.
The right pointed to Azathoth, bolstering its offenses.
Another gesture from Azathoth- and it sent forth explosive orbs, raining down on the battlefield.
"You seem very confident, Akechi. But what makes you so sure that things will play out the same way? You seem to be entering with less than half the numbers you had before... and you're assuming I have all the same capabilities as before."
It was enough to make him hesitate. But he called forth Sherlock, blasting the leftmost tendril to pieces with a Psiodyne. "It won't play out the same way. Because I'm not killing myself to get rid of you this time."
no subject
Well, no. This was fun.
This put him directly in front of one of the tendrils, to which he responded by driving the blackjack in his hand (when did that get there?) down with a crack, far louder than he expected. It glowed with the light of God's Hand, Bahamut's blessing in full swing now.
"Enough, Maruki! You want to help us? Then get out of your own head!" He danced back after a moment, analyzing the situation momentarily. Maybe...
He starts moving to position himself nearer the man, doing his best to make it look incidental. If he could daze Maruki, surely it'd give the others the opening they needed.
no subject
With the enthusiasm from seeing Akechi's drive and the fuzzy guy's holy bitch-slap against the tendrils, Blitzø was more than happy to move in, reaching out his hand to grab and tear out the stupid healing tendril that was undoing their work - his Loki, of course, actually bridging the gap to slap down a gnarly Laevateinn.
1/2, Enjoy your Phase Transition
"Manifest! Blow him away!"
A spark. And then light, brilliant blue-white, expanding, tearing the ground to pieces, radiating outwards in the unmistakable radiance of Megidolaon.
It was enough to stun even Azathoth, and bring Maruki to his knees, the man wheezing in pain. "This… can't be. I thought- I can't be reaching my limit already. I have so much to do still. Please-"
Akechi drew his pistol again, aiming staring down at the man. "I'd hoped that might be the case. You don't have the cognition of the masses to give you strength, here. Or maybe you can't tap into it for another reason."
Maruki looked up, now, apprehensive for the first time. "What reason is that?"
"The truth? You and I are more alike than you think. Both Persona wielders, both too stupid to see the flaws in our own dumbshit plans. But in this particular instance... You're not Maruki. I watched his Palace collapse. I was there. I know better than anyone that he gave up on this. You've been created, dropped into the world with your perceptions distorted, your life bent toward a purpose the real you would've found completely abhorrent. How does that make you feel, Doctor?" The man flinched, and it would've been a lie to say Akechi felt no particular joy, seeing that. "Struck a nerve? You're not helping anyone here. All you're doing is keeping them away from the real problem. The Story Eater. So give. Up."
2/2. Because it ain't an SMT boss without a phase 2.
"No," Akechi replied. "It won't. It's over. Even if you were to succeed, you don't have the power here to achieve your goals. "
"... I suppose- you're right. But… you had the same problem yourself, didn't you?"
Something in the air pulsed, and Akechi took a step backward out of reflex.
"In the Dreamscape, back in August. You decided for yourself that it didn't matter. That whatever the truth of your origin might be, your desires and goals were your own. And then…"
Too late, he fired. Too late, the shot ricocheted off a tendril that had twisted around Maruki, blocked the attack, even as he swung to try and stop. "No, no, god dammit no-"
"Yes… You awakened to a new Persona. Using the power of Dreamotion… I see." Azathoth was burning, twitching, seizing as if in mortal agony, its armor twisting and melting away- and the faint azure light around the room, and its tendrils, was flickering, fading- being consumed. "You're wrong, Akechi. There is… one source of power I can tap into, here. I will wrest the Story Eater's power from itself… and wield it as my own. Like Adam Kadmon. Like Yaldabaoth."
The floor was cracking and he was backpedaling, cursing as the monstrous form emerged, noctaere-black tendrils twisting and writhing like snakes- and eyes, baleful and luminous, opening along every inch. "What- what the hell is…"
"The god of desire that grants wishes… Yes. I think I can work with that. With this power… I can change the world. I will change the world. I will save… everyone. Starting with you.
Right… ZUCHEQUON?"
Re: 2/2. Because it ain't an SMT boss without a phase 2.
They twine around the tendrils surrounding Maruki, holding him steady for just a moment. Rather than backing off, as Akechi did, he instead darted forward, standing on his own platform of plants and maneuvering close, one foot braced at an awkward angle on one of the tendrils surrounding him. "I'm sorry... about whatever led you to this. But that's enough of your childish tantrum!"
And with that, the goat did what came naturally to him: He headbutted the man. Hard.
no subject
Hell, even the goat kid was getting up close and personal - that sounded fucking great. Loki seemed to be on the same wavelength, using that mischievous emotional energy to shift them both into a shadowy figure that vanished amidst the very shadows of the monstrous body of Zuchequon.
no subject
It'd been enough of a shock that it'd thrown Akechi off, but he had to enter the fray, had to throw Rakunda at the monstrosity, not knowing what it was capable of.
And yet… it did not move to attack, merely retreated from the assault, finally managing to throw Ralsei off- only for an axe-blade to swing downward where he landed, clawed hands and violet scales forming as if out of smoke as the weapon moved, wielded by a familiar face- albeit one empty, twisted, smiling.
"This world is so remarkable. So connected to so many others. Other stories- other hearts in pain. There's so much I can use… so much I can change!
"You're not even real. You can't change shi-" Akechi charged forward as well, willing Captain Nemo into existence to swing- only for the Persona's blade to rebound off a shimmering barrier in midair, as he was blown back by the attack, blood spraying from a cut across his chest.
"'Real' is subjective. Cognito ergo sum, isn't that what you said yourself, Akechi? I am me. Whether or not that's the same 'me' as another person who shares my name and face is immaterial."
He wheezed, getting back to his feet, though his expression darkened, as another axe-wielder formed, this one with a Persona of her own. "Son of a bitch…"