MUSE / Goro Akechi - Tumblr Posts

@tenebriism // yusuke & akechi!

the contact was something unfamiliar with him.

perhaps that is why he was so insistent on saying something, even when a sluggishness unable to be hidden in precise carnelian eyes, dexterity faltering in what is often used by such precise hands, a darkness discoloring the undersides of skin like cheap, shiny decoration — paint applied with a sensitivity often lost on Akechi, but one that was not so easily when it applied to the flesh; attention unending, monitoring, almost clinical.

perhaps it was that then, the unexpected from someone he has learned what to expect from, that championed him onwards like a curse he was bound to — eternally, Akechi was cursed, or at least that's often how he thought he was. how strange it was, for that moment of pinpoint notice, the contact an unfamiliar heavy pressure 'pon his shoulder, then; clumsy compared to the specific phrasing Akechi was talented in puppeting to prompt it, more natural than he ever was; its removal & its explanation. — if Yusuke had explained it sooner, Akechi hadn't been listening.

Initially, Akechi does not understand ; a thing he hates. he bites back the part of him that, impulsive, hears the reason & motive and calls Yusuke foolish. Uncomprehending, a white-hot moment of unwillingness to try met with the unkillable part of Akechi that denies the mocking, as if he is better than Yusuke, his eternal knowing he is not ; before he sets himself upon the task of seeing it through the lens of something he better understands. critical eyes scanning the lines, the progression, nipping at the edges of strokes of graphite or ink in his effort to understand why this mattered, why this was worth it.

Akechi is leaned forward, the worn booth of Cafe LeBlanc shifting as if moving to follow Akechi's lead hovering above his shoulder in one of the fewest times Yusuke is harbored within it's walls, as he shifts closer to examine. the same one might examine wounds, understanding the hands that made them, understanding what they were at all. ( Akechi struggled with the concept that Yusuke, or anyone at all, and himself were at all alike, however to say they were not similar in such a manner as this would be untrue. Goro's attention artistic in of itself, in the intensity his eyes always have. perhaps that is why Yusuke liked him. maybe Yusuke didn't like him at all. )

a perfectly trimmed finger-nail nips at the barest edge of a line at the bottom of the page, not tearing at the medium used to apply it, but rather only a pressure to it; as if by sinking his claws in, he could know it. — know it better.

"that is…" intrigue begins to strike him, rattling up into his nerves. his nail indents deeper into the fiber of the paper, never breaking through, only pushing it down. he understands it in the way detectives understand evidence, the way Akechi understands everything, the way he has to. "interesting."

he reels himself in, realizing that for all his intrigues, he is still expected to be the reasonable one. Yusuke was eccentric, blindingly intelligent in the ways Akechi took time to fully know just beneath the surface, but depravation and exhaustion were just the same regardless. human things, unhealthy in their intentional pursuit. what kind of friend would he be if he allowed this to persist? ( not friends. never friends. the way he always hesitates. ) — how hypocritical of him.

"By all means." a hand waved, eyes glancing to Yusuke's in his familiarity with the request before finding themselves back at the page "How long have you been conscious, Yusuke-san? However in-depth, and fascinating this study is, your health is a vital priority."

he sees law attorneys, occupational hazards, homosexuality and chaos on the dash. a particularly uproarious day, to be sure, but nothing out of the ordinary.

well he doesnt count in that generalization obviously. his sexuality is none of your business but if it WAS your business he'd be straight. mhm. least fruity man to ever exist he might as well have been named after plywood mhm yep

@starmuscd @gloryseized ━ x

Ah! How unfortunate. it would seem as though both of you need your eyes checked. If nothing else, Akira already has the faux eye-glass frames for such a procedure. :)

@tenebriism ━ x

"Ah. ...Thank you for admitting to your mistake, Yusuke." ( IT KEEPS GETTING WORSE. )

No wait everyone shut the fuck up you've been what hold on y

the ro━

.. "Ah, please forgive my lack of awareness, however uncharacteristic it is for me. I suppose I'd simply become accustomed to those kinds of compliments from those who don't... know me, as you and the others do."

"... I am not uncomfortable with such attention, if that is a concern of yours."

. . . he truly hadn't realized it ? Granted, Yusuke tends to explain things in the most intricately worded manner possible, and likely would have helped by just summing it up with a simple ' You're Beautiful, ' but where is the romance and poeticism in THAT ? If a compliment is earned, why not put one's ALL into it ?

"Your habit," Akechi stresses with a polite ━ friendly ━ but outspoken tilt of his head "is not one to apologize for. If anything, in my opinion it is only right to follow such an... intricate, sincere nature as yours."

"That is a high compliment from you, Yusuke, thank you. Even if I lack your expertise, I would return the sentiment to you as well."

" There is no need to apologize. I am largely at fault for not being outright with it and . . . refraining from practicing my usual habit of being too wordy. However, it is . . . good to know that my opinion of you is not poorly received. I do truly find you to be a work of art. "

He reaches a hand out, gently cupping Akechi's chin to turn his head, ever so delicately, towards him. "Turn to me, please? I want to ensure I capture the best angle." He smiles softly, and nods. "Perfect. Truly perfect." // Yusuke to Akechi c;

the gesture is a minute one, one that does not matter. ━ thoughtless, lacking purpose beyond the simple effect borne from its request and stated, gentle out of necessity : nothing, nothing, nothing. ( the mind answers, and yet the body is beyond reason. )

Blood is beyond debate, beyond argument, beyond opinion nor honesty nor deceit, it rises past like the sea & the shore; overwhelmingly. ━ heat, a compulsive flushing of the skin of which is out of his hands from the moment Yusuke nods & the sincere delicacy remains like porcelain in tea-sets; his face warms, the skin of his cheeks, across the ridge of his nose, the set of his jaw flush redder, and a stiff embarrassment collapses into its own creation in his stomach. It takes a lot to keep himself from looking away. there's a stubborn, sharp persistence as he keeps his eyes focused on Yusukes. ━━ but he moves smoothly, without reluctance.

how indulgent. ━ some might call it trying, annoying, to take such action, take the time playing model ( or was it muse? ) for something as minor, and while Akechi felt the itch of anticipation in his legs ━ the eternal knowing that his hours spared are few and far between, always so fleeting on what to do with them, always knowing there's something more productive to spend them on ━ the solidified thought remained that if he ever met any individuals of such an impatient caliber; he would very much like to break their jaw.

━ but a sharpness in his eye is the only hint to such harsh, angry thoughts.

"Best angle?" Akechi finds himself inquiring, which isn't to say he doesn't think before he speaks ━ he always does ━ but rather to say he still finds some level of... unexpectedness in his own words. He tries, very hard, to ignore the flush across his face ( and perhaps, were he more religious, pray that Yusuke do the same. ) "Usually, I'm told side-profiles are the most appealing. I must wonder if I've been misled, or your eyes simply see me differently."

Note regarding my Akechi muse & shipping: Particularly regarding Shuake/Akeshu (the ship of Akechi & the Protagonist), Akechi’s feelings regarding the Protagonist are very complicated regardless of the platonic or romantic nature of their dynamic, so while I do personally ship it and think the pairing is very interesting, it is not the default dynamic I have for them! I think Akechi has a lot of conflicting emotions and thoughts regarding the Protag, some of them very well being romantic (or at least generally homosexual) in nature. The overall, general conflicting emotions is simply part of my characterization of Akechi, but is entirely optional if it is expanded upon into a proper ship or even specified! if you want to ship it with me, by all means! but no one is obligated to!!! (it will also be tagged as Akeshu // for those who want to block it!)

I am also entirely okay with pairing Akechi with muses aside from the Protagonist! Akechi is a VERY difficult muse to handle and work with regarding honesty, his inner thoughts and feelings, and being both genuine and vulnerable enough to express them to another person, but it is ABSOLUTELY on the table! As long as it's not creepy, then I’m probably willing to at least consider it!

a twang of bitterness strikes in his chest like a brass bell, and abruptly he feels sick, as though a liar; the way he'd spoken as if Yusuke and the others knew him at all, leading them to believe such a false-truth, despite a level of honesty to the statement ( even when lacking a necessary wholeness to it. )

the stark edges dull as it spreads throughout him, if nothing else, becoming bearable. ( Yusuke might only see aspects he wants him to, certainly, but... well. At least such an attitude is useful to him, no? It justifies nothing. ) ... ... ... were his eyes truly gentle, beyond something sharp and analytical and uncomfortably observant? he didn't know if he believed that. ( maybe he'd like to. )

"I'm glad, truly. I hope you have some peace of mind not to worry about such things with me, at least." Akechi smiles, gently, then his expression bleeds into one of thought. ( a handful of more particular ones are denied trial. )

"... If I may, what about yourself? Your attraction, I mean. I wouldn't want to assume."

" . . . " Akechi's internal beauty seems to match that of the external, which comes as a pleasant, reassuring surprise to someone who most would describe as ' weird. ' " That you would lend your ear long enough for me to state my full piece, and encourage it, even on a topic like this . . . it is no wonder you are adored. Your personality is as easy to get lost in as the gentleness of your eyes, or the pleasant tenor of your voice. "

" I will surely think back to this moment on a rainy day, when I need it most. "

[storm] (Ryuji or Goro!) - @fantomevoleur

[ storm ] sender sees the awful weather conditions outside and insists receiver stay the night and ride it out.

“ You have to be joking. “ is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

The remark is incredulous, a tinge of suspicion on the underside of his tongue, and perhaps only distantly patronizing, depending on how you looked at it. perhaps a challenge, beneath that, beneath his teeth like nerve roots lined with arsenic. a challenge to force his hand, a challenge to convince, a challenge, challenge, challenge.

or maybe it’s not there at all, but still, he raises a brow at Akira, hand resting on the long-since-closed cafe doorknob, collar popped in preparation against the snow hailing outside. the balls of ice tap the glass panes of windows like many unseen fingers. It makes Akechi antsy.

wine red eyes glance back out the window, watching as heavy snow falls, the creep of cold running out from under the door and tracing lines up his leg. his head cocks ever so slightly, the way it does sometimes when he’s studying, or more specifically, when he’s analyzing.

he wasn’t dressed for this kind of weather. ━ clothing warm but not warm enough even with his collar standing proud and hands tucked away only for so long, but not long enough out beneath the sky, anyway. he’d have something like 20 minutes at best at a time, hail no doubt making traversal trickier with boots not quite ready for ice. transport would be slowed too, and perhaps soon to come to a halt entirely as mechanisms freeze up. ( what time was it again? eyes flick to his watch : 6:47pm. ━ he shouldn’t have stayed this long. what was initially intended to be a brief stop before heading out again had turned into conversation, had turned into discussion, had turned into hours longer than intended. Fuck him, he should’ve left before sundown. he knew better, knew his timings, what to expect, and yet… and yet… )

he’d have maybe 40 minutes to an hour to get out there before it got unmanageable, and the city untraversable with it. ━ you’re already late, Goro, you need to go now. look him in the eye and stop beating around the goddamn bush, why don’t you?

Akechi looks back, back straight and chin ever so slightly forward and eyes steady on Akira; the way rifle sights are on game; the way he looks when he’s already made up his mind. His gloved hand never leaves its resting place ‘pon the handle. 

“ It’s just a little snow, Akira. “ he starts his case, smiling, fully intending to turn this either into an easy victory or a war, depending on how stubborn Akira feels tonight ( or how much he pisses them off ) “ I have somewhere to be tomorrow, it’s not like I can just stay the night, and even if I did and could get there in time, it’d be an interesting kind of headache to excuse myself walking out of a cafe before it’s even opened with one other known tenant, wouldn’t it? Especially when that tenant has a known crimical record. “ yowch, Akechi, talk about a low blow. you might as well have just said being seen with you would be a bad look for my image. ━ He feels bad for all of a second before continuing, “ Not to mention there’s no telling the roads will be cleared up or the subway in usual order by the time that happened, regardless. “

“ Really, It’s only going to get worse. If I don’t leave now, I’ll just be making it more difficult for myself later. Plus, unless I’m wrong, you only have one bed up there. “ Akechi raises an eyebrow, which makes it feel only slightly more incriminating than it is, by sheer virtue of Akechi being the one to point it out. He waits, then, for either reluctant defeat or a court battle. ━ their choice, really.

♡ // for Yusuke and Akechi~ c;

Send me a ♡ plus a ship and I'll tell you... // always accepting!

WHO ASKED WHO OUT FIRST? ━ Honestly? it depends! Akechi is very much someone to take initiative and roles of leadership in many areas, personal included, but he's also EXTREMELY adverse to Fully allowing himself to break the distance he always puts between himself and others & as a result allow them to Know him beneath the masks he wears and the way he Wishes to be presented and the way he Is in a very genuine, raw sense. he is raw meat when you remove the skin and as much as it's honest, it's also sometimes ugly, sometimes it's volatile. he doesn't want to tie himself to someone who becomes an obligation he must mask himself to rather than an individual he's forged a connection with and can drop that false disposition, even slightly, with. He doesn't expect to be able to fully, and frankly I don't know if that's more Yusuke or Akechi restraining himself, but even slightly is something unparalleled to him. Akechi has more than enough nerve and articulation but it depends on how Yusuke responds for him to use any of it and lower himself from the distance he tries to keep to meet him on truly equal footing.

it'd also take Akechi coming to terms of an admission of his sexuality and therefore offering a direct 'crack' in his facade that, while maybe not major to others as individuals who are meant to be considered his friends ( and most of them probably Also queer, even if canon doesn't Say as much ) and the fact sexualities can change and often do over time, IS major to Akechi who often labels himself ━ knowingly incorrect ━ as straight to appear what is Expected of him in every avenue. 'appealing' isn't the right word, too sickly sweet of a term for this, but it's the closest I can think of when Akechi's domain is dominated by namely older individuals and a social norm based in homophobia where you are simply expected to be straight and if you are not it is expected to be secret, you as a person and you on the screen as two different people who should never clash and hell breaks loose when someone finds something they shouldn't and it does.

even in instances of this world where this Isn't true and Japan is much more accepting or where homophobia is just simply ignored, Akechi will always feel as though he must be either private ( always fun, always coy, always 'can you figure me out?' more than an actual right to his own secrets, always like a game he's playing with the audience that isn't one at all ) or performative, and the concept of directly admitting the contrary to someone, even unspoken, is difficult and daunting for him. Akechi wants to appear the 'nicest' option to those in his field and his fans, but part of this is also the fear of information being used against him. the question is ━ do i trust Yusuke enough to keep my secrets even when i want this? i may love him, but is it worth breaking the act for? breaking character? how much does this person mean to me, and is it enough? love and trust are two separate ideas, levels, 'love' being a foreign concept to him, and he must ask if they are cause enough to risk his person for. if he decides that 'yes, it's enough', then the decision, the asking is a quiet one, but one that cannot be stopped. Akechi has always been a stubborn, dedicated person when he sets his mind to something he so deeply believes as truth. Yusuke, on the other-hand, i think could be much more direct about it! after THREE PARAGRAPHS of me writing about how fucking complicated it'd be for Akechi where a solid 99% of it is ENTIRELY internal and HALF subconscious!!!!! Yusuke feels to me as a very withdrawn quiet character in a way, shy, which would probably make it harder but he feels as though he could ask much faster than Akechi could. Akechi takes months upon months of small moments reaffirming trust and reinstating a belief that Yusuke is worth this trust where he whittles down the distance despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and while I don't know what Yusuke could take, Yusuke always struck me as a honest, if romantic person. he doesn't need less, but I think he might trust Akechi more. the thought more approachable; he does, of course, perhaps have less to lose WHO WENT IN FOR THE FIRST KISS? ━ AKECHI. honestly it's extremely likely and i wouldn't be shocked at all if THIS was how Akechi wound up 'confessing' or 'asking Yusuke out'. Akechi is a very thoughtful, complicated individual but he's also very impulsive at times and while he has SO much strategy in Everything he does, he flips between intense self━restraint and intense, overwhelming, impulsiveness and sometimes, a lot of the time honestly especially where the metaverse is involved ( and Yusuke as a result since! well! he's part of the fucken phantom thieves! ) that side of him wins. in particular, I like to think it happened somewhere secluded at perhaps a holiday party when one of them stepped away, potentially Akechi, and the other found them, or late in the evening after a long night of spending time together; perhaps initially with the entire group before everyone went home and it was left as just the two of them, going home, the subway station almost ghost-like with them as the only people left there at such an hour, and either of how those quiet moments can invoke such a sense of disregard to caution when there is nothing left but conversation and opportunity, waiting to be taken to see what happens. AAAND that's as far as I can go without Tunglr LITERALLY refusing to post the damn thing so WOE google doc in the source it is

CHARACTER AESTHETIC — BOLD /ITALICS WHAT APPLIES & REPOST

tagged by: @rebellionhearted , thank you sm!!!!!! <3 <3

tagging: @tenebriism / @tendercoded / @leuvspell / @gloryseized / @finalfronticr / @dreamjumps / @abyssembraced / @somnium-led / @stellaxincubo / @cicxdas / @adventuroushero / @playedbetter and anyone wearing glasses or a hair accessory today! multi's, do as thy wilt! do w/e muses u want!

SOUNDS.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries

VISUALS.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

SCENTS.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint handcream

SOUNDS.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries

VISUALS.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

SCENTS.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint handcream

It's casual and not at the same time, the way he looks at Akira, and maybe he is what he fears him to be. ━ good reason to be cautious held behind the sharp edges of dull red eyes, both settled 'pon the ravenette, in the knowledge of who he is; what he does; and what you cannot say. His gloved fingers idly trace careful lines in his cups porcelain ridges with a concealed nail, idle as his attention rests squarely on the shoulders of conversational interest ( his subject, maybe, in the way he's been watching since he entered, only when Akira wasn't looking; eyes catching yours like he knew when you were ) making it feel almost the same as a teenage girl fiddling with her hair when someone she liked spoke to her, casual and innocuous and not at the same time, electricity bouncing off the cup; off the countertop; off the skin.

Maybe he is a live-wire, warning of twisted metal still too clever not to hold a current with a voltage that'd kill you if you let it, if you didn't. Electricity like a haze forcing hairs to stand, the mind to repeat mantras, strain of a mask he could not see; but knew was there. Maybe he is, electricity swimming in the pool with him, or maybe it's something worse than that, and you just couldn't see it yet. ━ only one person who could hide it. only one person who knew the tricks. make it two, and make it count. ( I wonder what happens when predator and predator get put in the same room, no matter how much one considers the other ; or perhaps themselves ; as prey, it is predator and predator. crow and cat and vulture. three; who was what, or what did you have in common? )

" Oh, I'm sorry! I should've made it more obvious. " Akechi responds as though that in a way is an answer, eyes crinkling with the motion of apology, but not quite closing. a dip of the head, brows arched, clean soft hair falling nicely where the longest of it barely touched his shoulders.

" As a detective I have a habit of studying people, like people watching, and there's just some little things I noticed about you, is all. I usually don't point it out, but you're an interesting exception. " He shifts back, eyes flicking to scan the space behind the counter, Sojiro caught in a glimpse in the back; careful consideration, but hard to know what he sees. ( can't get a read… ) ━ they flick back to Akira, pinning him too with a focus that seems so innate; but so easy to squirm under at the same time. interrogation lights in the way he watches you. " If you'd like, I can point out how I got my conclusion! But first, I'd like to know, was I right? " ( nerves hidden under the skin, and spotting them where the cracks shine through. he doesn't hold the gaze, glancing, out of confusion of intention; or fear? controlled breath like evidence; so he is afraid of you, or maybe he's just nervous, unexpecting of the question and your presence like a hawk in a henhouse; somewhere considered safe, right? that's the act, motions too practiced to be new here, safe behind the counter, safe beneath the radar. does he know you? good question, good question, good question. ━ he must ━ but maybe you're wrong. time to tell, time to tell... ) It's only guessing, after all. ( but it's so hard to tell )

quillheel asked:

"Obedience does not come naturally to you, does it?" // from Akechi to Akira! never listen to this man, now because he isn't intelligent enough to follow but because its funnier when its small shit <3

Meme Tag -- @quillheel

"What do you mean?" Akira returns question for question, opting to finish what he's doing behind the counter before glancing at the teen detective.

It's weird for him to just be there, sitting behind the counter, right? Akira can't help the dance of electricity over his skin, almost as if Akechi is the source of a livewire and he's standing dangerously close. Be cautious, be careful, chants around his mind almost unhelpfully at this point. It's not like being nervous about the guy is going to do anything helpful for him, just make him more nervous, and he tries to stamp down on the spinning thoughts with a small controlled breath.

Not that he's thrilled with the idea of having the detective just randomly appear at LeBlanc. Does he know? Or maybe he suspects something? And he pins Akechi with a questioning look, eyes mostly hidden by his messy bangs. Or maybe he means Akira's record?

open starter! // goro akechi

somewhere in the city, a white crow looms, deathlike, over the bones of mouse. feathers like ivory, eyes like blood vessels, mind like something hungry wing into limbs built for it, gravity taking hold, and catching air in asphalt claws. Akechi feels the same, for a blinding moment, and wills himself to be unflinching after finding an anticipation of one less step than there was as he goes up the stubby staircase of his office, only realizing his error as his foot goes through the space where the ground comes up to meet him, just in the wrong way.

his balance threatens him like gunpoint for a moment, and some minor shameful part of him shivers with the fact he'd have preferred that opposed to someone catching him like this ━ an angry thrum behind his eyes making them feel tense and pained and dull ━ but the rest of him floods in too fast by the time he's down the stairs properly, releasing held breath only when he's halfway down the hall, and reminds it that a little humility/humanity is a good thing, as that minor shameful part mumbles under its breath that perfection is a virtue, or at least, it used to be.

he finds himself navigating the office almost blind as sharp pain crackles along the seams of the skull like an electric board, shuffling mindfully in some of the more cramped spaces as the brain struggles to consciously process the outside world, so instead it reverts inwards, leaves him on autopilot; on memory. Goro is lucky that while he had not memorized the stairs, he has with nearly the entire rest of the building, or at least the route to his office. some coworkers try and catch his sleeve in conversation as he passes, but he brushes them off, social and sweet, that he's very busy right now, perhaps later! and the mission resumes. ( perhaps it simply does not occur to him of how rushed his stride is, how his knuckles turn into angry white ridges on the grip of paperwork, how one eye on the left side twitches; how this would be worrying if you knew him well enough, and sometimes, if you didn't. )

and when he does get into his office, he shuts the door, turns off the light, and sinks into the feeling of plushed-out fabric on a relatively cheap but not terrible desk chair that offers what familiar comfort it can, and what familiar discomforts he knows which he can avoid and which ones he can't; precise poise not enough, where he imagines he could stay for the rest of the day. ━ he'd rather be lying down right now, migraine lashing into him where even the modest sunlight drips in behind him from concealing blinds is too much, but he takes what he can get with two sharp hands, nails digging into it, and he accepts that this; in all likelihood; is going to be the best remedy that he has for the majority of the day until he can snag a bottle of painkillers on the way back home. resting the cool gloved back of his hand overtop the skin of his eyes. best just to survive, for now, he quietly decides…

… and the peace he craves does not last as long as he so wished it would. minutes or hours, he catches footsteps outside his door just before his doom comes, jolting alive in his seat even to the chagrin of the flesh of the brain as the doorknob rattles, he's lucky he can mask the pain with the squint of trying to change out a lightbulb in his turned off lamp as he peers over to the opened door ( although, he can't hide the twitch ) part of him begs to swipe at them with large heavy claws and rip out anything foolishly not nailed down from his rude guest, fingers poised at the neck of the lightbulb and dexterous enough to turn them even if he was blinded by the light from the rest of the station sweeping into his own little room like bleeding an infection, but he carefully tucks the impulse back. at least, in part, to know who he was going to be clawing at in the first place; not really out of unwillingness to be ruthless, perhaps cruel.

Akechi's head pounds. He finds himself unable to remember the shape of their shadow through the glazed window that otherwise he should've caught. He resists a wave of nausea that threatens to sink in. ( easy, now… )

" Oh, hi! I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, so you might want to take up your problem with someone else if you're looking for speed, but what can I help you with? "

However unexpected, the question is not an unfamiliar one. ━ rather, the concept isn't. everyone was always looking for something, always will be looking for something, always seeking to shift the blame; be virtuous; be noble & right & effortfully effortless. it's an easy question; a common question; one he's been asked many times. his answer mostly stays the same through the ages, different enough not to be robotic, he supposes, and little else.

the specifics catch at him, even so, rarely implemented beyond the baseline & almost prying in a way. 'if not god, what else?' 'what do you pin blame upon?' 'what kind of reality do you live in?' ━ detail, a rarity, far and few between. surprising. It's hardly difficult to catch it in his eyes all performance like, as if anticipating a camera.

the Detective offers a small laugh; not in the way of mocking, just in the way of being confronted with something unexpected, hardly bad. what kind of answer would he lend himself to, give voice to, incorporate into the flesh of the mask until they and it were one and the same. ( and what does he most wish to hear? )

" Well, that's quite a question. " the tone is amiable, if slightly dismissive. he offers it the light of day, but deeper thought does not cloud his tone. Akechi smiles. " I try not to let those things cloud my judgement, as harsh as that might sound. Remaining impartial, or at least avoiding jumping to conclusions without evidence is a large part of my line of work. It'd be a little difficult to do that if it was as easy as pinning a ghost for murder, wouldn't it? "

sc. @quillheel *

" do you believe in anything greater than yourself? maybe not a god, but ghosts? faeries? who- or, what- do you blame the world's failings on, when no one person can take the blame? "

“I’ve got you.” (to Akechi) - @fantomevoleur

Send “I’ve got you” to help my muse wash off blood from their body / accepting!

Akechi feels as though he's being boiled alive.

━ there's a diffused nature to it, now, after the long night left him like a dull blade, ground against concrete. The way frosted glass diffused light, some things are lost in transition, some details decided to be too insignificant, and he finds himself unable to distinguish between the full-body ache and the hot water, nearly sweet. ━ no, instead he finds himself viscerally aware of the movements of the body next to him, limbs moving and the rippling in the water it causes, steam funneled, redirected, fuming off the skin. It's foreign in a lot of ways, but not as many as he'd expect ( he supposes, in a keen way, that the little meetings they'd had prepared him for this. He considers its intentionality. He resolves, to some extent, that it's coincidence for these things to align the way they have, if only out of timing. He would have never known. None the wiser. None the wiser. )

Lost to the world for all but a moment, but the dull blade rings when the water hits a welted, lacerated part of his back : a sharp breath through grit teeth jarring him back to reality. Idiot. ( he couldn't expect Akira to control every way the water fell, but a half of him, kicked & bitter, held to the moment latched like it had talons, bleeding into the rest of him. )

To Akira, all the notice he betrays is a harsh breath, a stiffness in the body, and the strain of the vein of his neck as the blood spirals in the water. To those less observant, this would be nearly nothing. To the right people, they know what to look for. He finds himself like a fixation returning to why Akira was here in the first place. A lack of understanding. A want to. A need to. he rolls the idea around like a marble and comes to the same conclusion he has been each time he does; out of pity.

He balls his hands in the old towel wrapped around his waist, and bids himself to be grateful that at hours like these, the staff and service were practically nonexistent. He finds his spite only deepens. ( his idea for the hot water, anyway... )

" Please, try to be careful. I wouldn't want to burn the skin around the wound. It wouldn't be very fun for anybody if that happened. " Goro's voice comes, tarry and sweet enough despite the tense of air in his chest. he scrapes his nails down his arms, littered in small cuts and scrapes, and pretends not to realize how his nails catch on the disrupted skin and the dried blood. " I appreciate the help, though. That one is in a hard spot to reach...! "

One he's reached before. one he'll reach again. the way he speaks about the wound is nearly the same as radio announcers on radio novellas. Nearly lifeless, in a way. He reminds himself to keep up the act.

he cranes his head to look backwards at Akira, look down his back, hair plastered to his wet skin. on the center length of his back, arching over his ribs like a lightning strike, multiple cuts, the worst among them about 7 inches long, 5 millimeters deep. He can just see a couple of the emergency stitches already popped from the little while they'd been holding the wound shut, white threads reddened and sticking out from the skin. Useless.

Perhaps more amicably, he notes a " I'll have to redo the stitching properly soon, although most of the blood has already tapered off... " before turning back forward, and with a little more resolution ( and a little more abrasion ) begins scrubbing away at the dried blood where he can, noting that he'll have to clean the bath thoroughly himself before they leave, and trying not to twitch like a white hot coal when the feeling of touch on bare skin is more jarring than the pain he's tending to.

Akechi barely glances over from the papers held deftly between his fingers, bound into a simple booklet by only a few stray staples, when he addresses so carelessly and is addressed in turn. It's an easy belief to buy into that he'd not been paying attention at all; the casual, almost modeled ease on his face and his sharp eyes squarely upon the text before him; but the truth lies in the swift glimpses of a red-toned gaze cast towards motion so rarely here and there between his case-work's reading that, fleeting and subtle, tell the truth of it, watching from his peripherals.

He gives a soft & sweet, acknowledging hum from the chair he's sat in, one leg carefully crossed over the other as his jacket hangs draped across its back, and does not look as he is spoken to nearly as though the words that dropped from him in the small room came, somehow, from someone else or simply did not come at all — the smell of his artistic materials, oils and glosses and fresh paints still waiting to be blended into their own pigments again, all scent the room and denote themselves to his latest endeavours, and in that, an indicator perhaps...

"Don't get too ahead of yourself now," Goro's tone is light and airy; not necessarily jovial in nature, but nonetheless lighthearted "You simply don't often go through the trouble of putting your utensils away. I thought it good to praise you for it, with how much easier I'd imagine it to make finding them."

And not to stain paint on every last part of yourself and your clothing, of course...

His eyes flick up, sweetly, over to the blue-haired painter to his flank; all but smiling honeyed and lulling his head in query. "Unless you'd prefer I not? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable, Yusuke-san, if that's the case..!"

A gentle air of taunt, perhaps, in the almost professionalism of his tone and in it, so hard to discern. No, a game to him. Intrigue to the way the other answers. Testing waters, the poke and prod, the eggshells swept away for a more paned glass approach.

"Good boy" // Akechi to Yusuke! >>>:)

Self Explanatory - [ ACCEPTING ] ;;

Silence. More silence. Even more silence. Forgive him, he's turning the words over in his head like some strange little Rubix Cube, before halting the rotation entirely. " Am I to receive pets for my apparently approved actions? I had not thought you were watching me with such intensity. " It delights him all the same.