It was odd, how tired he felt. A bone-deep exhaustion he hadn’t felt in a while, and attributed to the whole... Remnant and making a ‘Hell’ for Goro thing. He hadn’t been able to do that before, so of course he’d be drained. Maybe it had been force of will, or simply the ghost version of adrenaline keeping him up before.
All he knew was that whatever it was, it had worn off. He’d fallen asleep - and whatever vague part of him was aware of that, was in no rush to wake up. Akira simply curled up where he lay, roll over, and sink deeper into sleep.
Sleep felt like a better option than being awake right now. He could get up and do things another day...
The first thing he could feel on waking up, before anything else, was a thick, overwhelming rage. The second was lingering pain from stab wounds. He didn’t have the presence of mind to hide any of them (not that anyone that could see him was near him enough to require hiding them at all) as his first action, upon realizing where he was, was to focus his vision into Third Eye, and fly off.
It occurred very slowly that he was, somehow, a child again. Not important, he figured. Time bullshit, something something ‘his own world wasn’t that far in’, rubber banding ages and some shit about how old he was ‘supposed’ to be at this point in time.
He could feel the Other Being huddled away in his core - asleep, inactive, unaware. Resting after what had happened? Akira had no time for rest. Nor had he the temperament for it at this moment. No, Akira’s mind was full of energy and hate and rage and plans.
Goro was here, and if the years spent with his Other-Half-But-Not had taught him anything, it was that Third Eye was damn good at tracking people. And unless Goro had also managed to hop worlds... He was somewhere in this world. On this planet.
A hiss of rage, something nearby shattering in a manner that no longer satisfied any part of him, and Akira’s mind was already deadly focused.
As much as he hated seeing Clara go, he both really did feel terrible for accidentally interrupting Soul and Henry’s snuggling time with her - and also was relieved he was being left to his own devices. He had an itch that needed satisfying, a knife he needed to practice with, and a burning need to run run RUN-
Not in a hiding kind of way, oh no - the weight of the knife, the feel of the coat, subtle differences aside, it made him feel... better. More him, more energized.
So off Akira went, into the night. Part of him knew Clara would be disappointed. Henry too. Soul... Maybe. But what did he care what they thought. Hypocrites. Soul especially - who was he to say what was good and bad when he turned around and fucked over his own family?
A perfect candidate for Palace-work if he’d ever seen one. A shame he still couldn’t get into the Metaverse.
Akira had to be careful. Cautious. Third Eye to light up camera angles and any nearby people - blind spots that he HAD to keep track of if this was to work. This... itch, he was following. The Something that had been bubbling up inside him, doubly so since he’d finally seen his old knife made new again. Said knife that he twirled in his hand before tucking it away again, out of sight.
Not now. RUN now, HUNT now - play later.
He couldn’t hunt Goro, unfortunately - Goro was a target for later, for when he had more clues about where the young man could have gone. More practice with Third Eye and maybe he wouldn’t need clues, though. Wasn’t that a thought~?
All this practice with his ghostly abilities, too, and he wouldn’t even NEED to be solid, he could possess him and impale him on his own cookware-! Or make smaller wounds, even just imprison him in his own head - oh wouldn’t that be fun~
And then his eye was caught- a young man. Loud, rude, immediately making Akira want to be anywhere else. Or maybe sock him in the nose.
Perfect.
Akira - who had thus far been making his way slowly across rooftops - began tailing the fellow. Watching carefully - painfully slowly, making an odd noise here and there to spook him, herd him into solitary locations - until finally the time was right. The itch pushed at him, adrenaline roaring- and he struck. Leaping down off the rooftop, taking full advantage of both the darkness and Metaverse-based practice to sneak up behind him-!
Muffle him, quiet quiet no noise no attention. Can’t be seen, can’t let the Security go up this early into the game. Asshole noone would miss, a brief thought about Phantom Thieves Don’t Kill but They Killed Him so the rules didn’t APPLY ANYMORE- quick thrust as the itch raged, hold him hold him hold him-! Still. Quiet and still and a small amount of nausea quickly drowned out by an odd, elated adrenaline rush at the success. Unnoticed, unheard, and unseen. Just like with Shadows. Shadows, but easier. Softer. They died faster, took hits harder, and were equally as predictable.
Hunting humanities dark side for months made it simple to play with the real thing.
At first, he didn’t understand how Henry could get so out of control so quickly.
He’s still resting. He’s been awake once - just once - and eventually went back to sleep. It’s probably not official dormancy at this stage, but that doesn’t really matter to him right now. His heart hurts, and he’d rather sleep more than risk going back to whatever tragedy might greet him on the other side.
Is Soul safe again? Healthy? Happy? Henry probably isn’t. Unless a skip has happened, and they’re both neatly in the future, all happy and soft and waiting for Clara to return.
He doesn’t know. He supposes he will eventually, but for now, he’d rather wait until he feels something approaching ‘normal’. Unless the ability to leave is like a hospital too, and his own perception of health is different to what ‘OMC’ sees.
In which case... he supposes he’s staying until his ‘doctor’ says otherwise. As much as the idea sends ribbons of paranoia and distrust up his very being.
Everyone has vanished. He couldn’t begin to guess why they’d ALL disappeared, something to do with timelines is the most likely answer. He’d been playing with Cassidy, tormenting a man that... enjoyed it, for some ungodly reason.
But it had only just struck him. Shapeshifting. Shapeshifting. There was a single form he hadn’t seen since he’d died, a single person he hadn’t heard a single word from. And while he couldn’t bring him back - something something denied parts of self, either that or dead people weren’t allowed to have them - he could take the shape himself.
And so, he did. Changing before he could properly see himself, because witnessing the change would break the illusion. He then located the nearest appropriately sized decently reflective surface, and just... stared. Stared longingly at the tall, red-and-black, winged, masked man stood before him.
It made his heart feel both heavy and significantly calmer, and Poltergeist found himself just sort of... drifting off, mentally.
Arsene. Arsene meant he was safe. It didn’t matter that it was an illusion.
The mere image felt like a weighted blanket over his entire being.
Cooking was one of the few things from his life that made Poltergeist happy. One of the few things that wasn’t tainted with rage or betrayal. Thus, he was in the blissfully large kitchen in the Other Purgatory, making curry for... people. Several people. At least five or six? Maybe. He had a large pot regardless, because it was there and it was large and he’d rarely had the CHANCE to use the Big Pots, because Sojiro had needed those.
“I- got this feeling, yeah, you know, where I'm losing all control! 'Cause there's magic in my bones~! I- got this feeling in my soul-! Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones~” At some point, he’d started singing - it was quiet, and very much to himself, because for once, his mood was just... good. Cheerful and happy and good and really he just felt like singing a tune or two while he worked.
Music made cooking all the more fun, after all.
Poltergeist was, today, in his room, leaning against Kojin, who was themselves napping, folded into a loaf shape on the floor. He was technically experimenting - though not on Kojin, no. Kojin was there because they were warm, soft, and oddly grounding. Which, all things considered, was good. And necessary, for him. Poltergeist was doubtful he’d gotten over his anger issues, after all. Just... hadn’t had a bad day in a while.
That aside - experimentation.
He’d been experimenting with Third Eye ever since the implication had come up that it was more than just a simple ‘see things’ ability. Ever since he’d used it to track down a portal. There was more to it than the surface level stuff he’d done when he was alive, he just knew it. Even then, it’d come to him as one ability, but over and over he’d trained it to do other things. Unlocked other usages out of it.
There had to be more he could do.
And more there was. Right now, he was playing with a more... non-physical, theoretical concept. Third Eye was a finding ability at it’s most basic. But in the batting cages, he’d used it to slow time down (or speed himself up, one of the two) and that wasn’t ‘finding’. So clearly the ability had more potential than just ‘find thing’.
He had a coin, and was flipping it into the air - from there, he followed through with the slow-down from the batting cages, and willed himself to try and ‘find’ a way to alter how it landed. If he could make it land only on one side - or even better; only on it’s edge - then he’d... well, he didn’t know. But it was an experiment, and it didn’t include violence, so that meant it was worth the attempt.
Again and again he willed himself to ‘find’ a way to enact some control over the coin. To gain some measure of power over it, over how it fell, anything - and then;
Threads. For just a fraction of a moment. He jerked in place (Kojin making a sleepy huffing noise behind him, but otherwise remaining still and unbothered) and let the coin sit where it landed, staring at it for a few moments more before picking it up, and trying the same thing again.
Threads. It was hard to focus on them, hard to keep them in his sight, but there were threads either connected to or hovering around the coins. One seemed more centered in the... fall, than the others, and out of idle curiosity, he reached in - shifting it out of the way, moving one of the ones at the side to the middle.
The coin, which had just moments prior looked as though it was about to land on ‘heads’, wobbled in the air a bit moments before hitting the ground, and bounced-! It bounced, flipping in the air and landing cleanly on the other side. On ‘tails’.
Poltergeist stared at it.
He couldn’t be certain, but he felt very strongly that he’d just done something.
