[ic] so choose the colour you will fly

[pancakeboy]

For all the talk of blowing up the Diet Building, and his little rampage through Shido's office the day he arrived, Akechi doesn't try his father's keywords until the day after he learns everything. Or at least... some things. The shadow of how things might, or might not be.

The ship is right there, no different to how he remembers. He moves through it uncostumed, unmasked, just as he always has, in that mossy green jacket that's slightly less tailored than his shirt and pants; he belongs. The guests titter and giggle about their privilege; the cognitions look through him as if he isn't real. Sometimes he feels eyes on him and looks up, only to realise he's looking into a mirror.

Eventually, far inside the ship, in the balconied chamber with the plants that the Shadows patrol, he drops down into a chair. Could call Loki and run rampage here, if he wanted. Could pull his gun and put a bullet through each of those patrolling Shadows, one, two, three. Could use his claws, tear those plants from their holders for a start. Shred the velvet, punch through the walls. Scream and scream and scream. Beat the palace hollow till whatever's lurking in its deepest depths shows up to finish him.

But he doesn't. One mustn't, after all—heh—rock the boat. Even if you want nothing more than to tear a hole in the hull and go down with it. Even if you've been running, and running, and someone's dropped a brick wall into your path.

Abruptly, his head snaps up, eyes sharpening. Someone's here.

Comments

[pancakeboy]

He swallows the snarl that, for two pins, he'd share with every Okumura he could find. "I think you and I both know that depends on who means to expose it." After all, just how much does she know about him? About the private ironies that are strictly for himself and Loki? About just how close to his heart his constant dance with the truth is?

"And you're wrong. I do have a reason. It may be too late for my secrets, and I'm not offering you an alliance, but—I also don't need more enemies here." Like that piece of shit soiling Ren's name, the one who now brightens so many of his thoughts about the 20th. The thought lets a little of that snarl escape.

"And I'm afraid your father was still a complete idiot. Just, by the sounds of it, one too close to—" and he nods around at the splended décor, that sadly is not hanging in rags—"someone else we could name." Far be it from him to not go off on rants at the drop of a hat.

[rosemaudite]

That's fair. She knows enough about how Goro ticks that she could've really upended things, if he hadn't literally done a lot of that work himself. To himself? Not like this isn't complicated.

"Not throwing me to the wolves knocks him down to 98 percent idiocy or so. I didn't say I was giving him a free pass." The last one of those was, in fact, when he threw Haru to the wolves. Her father is nearly as worthless as his.

"Mutual non-aggression suits me fine. But if you need backup for something and don't want to ask yourself, odds are good I'll be available."