[ oh. text would have been much better for this. he could have taken his time to think it over. this puts him on the spot, trying to measure up pros and cons as fast as his mind can possibly work, tension rising in him, more stress on something that's already creaking under the strain—
he has to make a snap decision one way or the other, and what tips the scales is the recent situation with death aboard the station. even since they arrived here on that first day, death has been sitting in the back of his mind like... like an option. a comfortable dead end for an existence as pointless as his, one last chance of closure for a life that lacked any. and now that's gone, too. there's no permanence in death here and maybe that's a relief to some, but for Akechi it feels like hopelessness. nothing he does really matters at all. he's so, so tired. ]
Alright. [ promptly, before Ren can question his decision or make any clever comments, he goes on: ] It's hardly the same atmosphere as Leblanc, but I do miss good coffee.
[ there's nowhere on the station that feels the same, he's found. to him, Leblanc was something safe, and warm, and comforting in a way that he wouldn't find anywhere else; this cosy little scene encased in glass that the rest of the world couldn't touch. everything here is cold. the harsh lights, the sharp edges of the place. ]
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he has to make a snap decision one way or the other, and what tips the scales is the recent situation with death aboard the station. even since they arrived here on that first day, death has been sitting in the back of his mind like... like an option. a comfortable dead end for an existence as pointless as his, one last chance of closure for a life that lacked any. and now that's gone, too. there's no permanence in death here and maybe that's a relief to some, but for Akechi it feels like hopelessness. nothing he does really matters at all. he's so, so tired. ]
Alright. [ promptly, before Ren can question his decision or make any clever comments, he goes on: ] It's hardly the same atmosphere as Leblanc, but I do miss good coffee.
[ there's nowhere on the station that feels the same, he's found. to him, Leblanc was something safe, and warm, and comforting in a way that he wouldn't find anywhere else; this cosy little scene encased in glass that the rest of the world couldn't touch. everything here is cold. the harsh lights, the sharp edges of the place. ]
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