Floor 1, Room 3

[jokey]

AKIRA

code

Comments

[impacter]

Would you rather see me sit in my sorrows while talking about the weather?

[Come on, dude. Of course they need a game.]

Too high. Try again.

[jokey]

Of course not. That's not what we're here for.

[He's here to keep Solomon distracted, and if he can, to make him smile. Solomon deserves that much, doesn't he?

Another sip down the hatch. Akira doesn't make any effort to hide the way his face squinches up this time.]

Five thousand.

[impacter]

[He thinks about it for a moment, before shrugging.]

Closer. I'd rather not kill you narrowing it down any further, though.

[jokey]

[That's for the best, eh? Akira's a lightweight, stringbean-y as he is and unused to heavy liquor. A pleasant heat settles in his cheeks, tempting him to imbibe more, but he has an image to maintain of a responsible and mature young man here. He'll let the alcohol sit a minute before taking another slug, lest Solomon take the bottle from him.]

I'm surprised you've kept count. Everyone I've known in your age range has lost count.

[Erm. Should he have kept that to himself? No, no, it's fine. It's not like he's putting the Velvet Room residents in any harm by vaguely alluding to them. It's all good!]

[impacter]

[Hm. His demons, perhaps? Or maybe his world has had more unfortunate situations to drag life far too long.]

You're giving me too much credit.

I lost track after I turned 200. Celebrations of the millennia tend to stick a little better than a birthday, though.

[jokey]

That makes more sense.

[Another sippy, don't mind him. He's getting used to the burn, or maybe that's just the buzz settling in.]

Is that just how you've always been? Long-lived, I mean. Is your family the same way?

[impacter]

No.

[To which part? He doesn't specify.

His finger taps against the side of his own bottle.]

Is there something I should guess at in return for you, before you end up tipping over onto the floor?

[jokey]

What do you mean, tip over? I'm holding up.

[How rude! He'll have Solomon know he's perfectly fine, sitting up and... swaying a bit. It's fine, it's fine, don't you dare treat him like a kid—]

Sure. Since you're the wise and knowledgeable Solomon, I want you to guess how I know so much about the drugstore receipt full of demons on your skin.

[And in the meantime, he's going to wobble upright and light some incense.]

[impacter]

[you're holding up like a plastic bag in a hurricane, buddy, good luck]

You've already given me the answer for this one. They're your Shadows, correct?

Unless you've decided to tell this old man a very generous lie.

[jokey]

[Look? He managed to light the incense without anything else catching fire? He's doing fine! A bit less so on the wobble back over to the couch and the whump on the way down, but he's pretty far from down for the count.]

There's another word for them: Personas. They're only Shadows until they become a part of me.

[impacter]

That makes it sound like a mask you choose to wear, rather than an agreement with any kind of demon.

[He's just gonna drink anyway. Come up with better questions, kiddo, or Grandpa will outpace you.]

What do you mean by "a part of you", though?

[jokey]

Everybody wears masks, right? Some of us wear many.

[Ah, but that's a good question. Akira thinks on it, ringing the lip of his bottle with the pad of his thumb.]

How to put it... It's like forming a pact. Personas are a part of the self, so when I call on their strength, they manifest from me. Once I've made that pact, they're at my full disposal.

[Here's a question for you, Solomon:]

How many Personas do you think I have?

[impacter]

[That does indeed sound like a pact, albeit a little too self-weaved for his taste. But what a fascinating ability, to pull of that kind of power from the ego, rather than from a benefactor. So many sorcerers would kill for that kind of self-sustainability in their magic.]

Mmm.... Enough that you weren't entirely shocked at seeing me.

[Where to ballpark it, though...]

Seventy, perhaps.

[jokey]

Oooooh, so close.

[But also, not really! Akira chuckles — giggles more than anything, really — and taps Solomon's bottle with his own. Drink up!]

Aim higher.

[impacter]

[Damn, okay. Overachiever here.

He hums in consideration, closing his eyes for a much longer swig. Surely he can't already be getting fuzzy, he knows he can handle more than this...]

One hundred, then.

[jokey]

[Another laugh. Get a load of this old man underestimating him. Akira sneers, tapping the bottle anew.]

Higher.

[impacter]

[alright you cocky little bastard, hold your horses

He exhales firmly, before taking another long drink.]

Two hundred and fifty.

[jokey]

Bzzt! Wrong!

[Akira takes a drink just for funsies, or is he mocking Solomon? What do the cocky laughter and shit-eating grin suggest?]

A little lower~ Just a little~

[impacter]

So picky, Akira-chan. [FINE, down goes another... oof, but he's really starting to feel the warmth in his face already.]

Two hundred thirty.

[jokey]

Two hundred and thirty what?

[Solomon was so merciful, and in return, Akira's giving him hell. Is there no justice for the elderly?]

[impacter]

[Somewhere in a distant universe, Barbatos cheers in the knowledge that Solomon is getting his ass kicked by a 17-year-old.

Down goes another, hard to swallow. Give him a second.]

Two hundred thirty-two.

[jokey]

Omedetou, Solomon-chan!

[Somewhere between two hundred thirty and two hundred thirty-two, the alcohol hit Akira like a truck. He'd clap if he didn't have an iron grip on his bottle of alcohol.]

But to be honest, I lost track after 200~

[Wink! It's not enough to kick Solomon's ass. Akira has to sass him to hell and back too.]

[impacter]

[...



He just. Looks at Akira. Looks very, very hard at Akira, from where he is currently nursing his own bottle.




And then he just leans forward, hand against his head as he stumbles into a fit of messy laughter.]

[jokey]

[Oh? Oh?! He knew he could get Solomon laughing with the right combination of bullshit and alcohol, but this? This is so much more than Akira was expecting. This is...]

...Solomon. You're kinda...

[mmmmMMMmmmn. Akira self-censors with the lip of his bottle. He has some semblance of a brain left.]

[impacter]

[It's like a tense spring's been loosened in the form of drunken giggling, Solomon wiping at one of his eyes with his palm as he looks over towards Akira, face colored between how he tries to catch his breath and how many shots he just took in rapid succession.]

I --- ahahah, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--- give me a second...