The Values of Discretion (Takeda)

[Akira Nakajima]

The fact that another human had appeared, again, was a fortunate turn of events, really. While he could have likely taken the healer out, Akira preferred to not fight more than necessary. Too much meant he'd be too tired when something forced his hand, after all. Darkness and fire, as well as bullets, shot back and forth between the two. Akira just opted to navigate away from the confrontation to avoid unnecessary discharges from colliding with him. Call it mean, but he wasn't going to interfere with someone else's fight unnecessarily. Sure enough, this man could handle himself. He seemed a bit winded by the time the eyeball-bat-face thing finally broke apart and faded. It was only then that Akira closed the distance again. His grip on his spear was still steady, but it was clear that he wasn't hostile- or, at the very least, he didn't appear to be hostile.

”Hayagriva, Media.” The horse gave off a surge of healing light that engulfed both the boy and the man. Though his own injuries were light, it was good that he healed them. ”If you think you need another, just ask. And thank you for the assistance. I don't like fighting them more than necessary when on my own. It's just a bit dangerous, you know?” While he spoke, he lightly gestured with his right hand. His left was, understandably, subjected to the burden of his spear. The boy took a quick glance to the sides. He squinted lightly, searching for any signs of movement. Those eyes had gotten by him before. He'd have greatly preferred it if another batch didn't get the jump on them. Only after he was sufficiently certain the trouble was over did he look at the man again, fixating him with a red and blue eye.

”Nakajima. My name is Nakajima Akira. I'd like to speak with you, if you're fine with it, but it might be better if we do so outside. It'd be a very. . . unfortunate if this hour ended while we were in the museum, and I fear the troubles that would follow if security cameras caught us. Is there anything you need to do while you're here, Mister. . . ?” Akira let his voice trail off. Getting the other's name would help in socializing. Of course, he didn't want to be too intrusive, at the same time. It was clear that the youth hadn't noticed- or considered, at the very least- the shell casings.

[Takeda Akiyama]

Through ragged breaths and blurry vision, Takeda slowly began to be able to focus on his would-be helper...and god damn if he wasn't happy to see another human being besides his half-brother that was capable of manifesting one of these damn things. Kid's seemed more stable, cohesive, responsive...either this- wait. As things drew in a bit clearer, and his muscles relaxed a bit, the features of the figure became much more clear. Or rather, unclear. Androgynous. Oh holy shit, he couldn't tell. Didn't matter though, not now, he thought. Gazing from the only other human in the room, down to the shell casings that littered the floor, he let out a bit of a pained sigh. Damn it, he had to get the casings up, he couldn't let there be evidence...at least he could lie to whoever it was. Say he was in here hunting, instead of looking into the possibility of scoring some loot.

As Takeda was about to open his mouth to speak, the rather confusing individual had moved ever closer to him, and spoke aloud to his phantasm. If Takeda hadn't been so beat-up, he probably would've noted that in lieu of having to act anything out, or just think...this one straight up commanded his/her persona damn well.  With those words, he felt it, oh dear lord did he feel it. A green waft of energy flowed over him, alongside the other hunter, like a summer's breeze. Cool, refreshing, with that little hint of pine scent. His body felt invigorated, his unfamiliar pain from the dark miasma healing up, alongside the general feeling of sickness that it filled him with.

Craning his head left and right, popping his neck, Takeda scouted out the rest of the room whilst the person below him spoke again..."Thanks..." Dear god it pained him to even say that.  "And yeah, I feel 'ya. Hoped today'd be uneventful." Slowly, he made his way down the stairs, hopefully to get a better look at the strange individual who had patched him up with that strange healing mist...damn, he could stand for that again. Hearing the individual talk whilst he went on down the steps, he replied only with "Yeah...lead the way. Gotta pick up something."

Half-expecting the horse-rider to start walking out as he went down the steps, Takeda was frankly shocked to see the person still sitting there atop the horse. Slowly, he turned his attention away, and moved to where the shell casings were, plucking each of them up off the ground, tossing them into his jacket's pockets with a satisfying jingle. Putting his hands in both after tucking away the pistol, he looked at the person...feminine looking enough around the face, that much was sure. Young though, fairly young. Clothes were more like some of the stuff he expected to see on a tomboy, or a teenage guy. He had to admit, he was more than a bit confused, and was snapped out of a bit of a haze by the words of the teen...Akira, huh?

"Oh." he said, trying to keep the tone down as he looked at the horse rider. "Yeah...wait till we're out there to talk." common sense, halle-fucking-lujah. Slowly, he made his way back towards the fire exit, half expecting the kid to follow him on out. The night air nipped at him almost instantly, as if the air was filled with electricity. This warped mockery of the world at night, god, it gave him a feeling that was almost primal, like none of this was tolerable in the slightest. Waiting for the young...whatever it was, to come out from the door, he watched the night around him, hand still on his gun, the other, on a packet of cigarettes in the opposite pocket...a smoke seemed well deserved by this point.

[Akira Nakajima]

Seemed like the nameless man was still getting situated at first. He might've needed another heal, but Akira would hold off on that unless the request came up. He finally noticed the shells. It was a good point on the man's side. Leaving those around in the museum would have caused a bit of a panic on the following day, when the museum opened. He found himself smiling slightly. The man headed out to the fire escape. Given that stairs would be a little dangerous to fight on with him on his Persona, the boy dismissed Hayagriva while nearing the doorway. With a light “thump”, his shoes collided with the ground, but the youth seemed fairly balanced as he stepped out. Rather than lingering near the door, he went down a flight of the stairs, sending a gaze out over the surroundings. The spearhead hovered about an inch over the grating of the platform. The shaft ran along the back of his arm.

”Keep your wits about you out here. It might sound insane, but that museum has weaker monsters than what you'll find in the streets. And some of these things can fly.” While he wasn't some skilled veteran of combat, he didn't think it took much to consider the dangers of an aerial strike. Of course, if the man had encountered those sorts of issues already, he probably didn't need to be told. He already showed good sense by collecting his gun's shells. ”Do you want to talk here, or a bit further down? Of course, waiting out this hour works, as well, but this likely isn't the best place for it. I imagine there's another good. . . twenty to thirty minutes left.” He estimated, letting his voice trail off. Humanity had grown dependent on technology, and a lot of it didn't work during that hour.

”Jumping is also an option, but that'd be a short-lived decision.” He let out a sarcastic laugh before gradually descending a little further, mostly to get a different angle for observation. Morbid humor was probably the best humor in a place and time like that. Of course, that was arguable.

[Takeda Akiyama]

Standing near the fire escape door, Takeda made his way on down the old metal steps, pulling the cigarette pack from his pocket, prying one loose with one hand, holding it in the other. Placing it gently between his lips, he took out a match, ran it across the rusted metal, and lit it on up. Glowing softly in the strange light, the cigarette did wonders for his somewhat frayed nerves, the clerk wasn't used to this, to ones that could fly, to ones that could slither, to ones that fucking existed on this mortal plane where they had absolutely no god damn business being. Theories were abound in his already overworked brain as to what these things were, what purpose they had, or hell, what bigger, badder motherfuckers lurked in the dark, waiting to prey upon the souls of men. What horrid shit waited beyond the depths? He didn't care. He was straight up tired out of his fucking mind. After all, before all of this? Takeda wouldn't be caught dead out at this...could he even call it this time of night? Not unless there was a mug in his hands, no, no.

"If I did want to jump, I'd tell you to tell them not to use a squeegee." Takeda said fairly quietly, looking over his shoulder at the young...we're just gonna go with thing at this point, and pulled his pistol out from his jacket pocket, tapping it against his right leg. His voice was quiet, dry, kid'd take it as a joke, leave it at that. With the glow of the cigarette right in front of his face, smoke rising off into the cold sky, he nodded in the general direction of where he clearly intended to go, hopefully with the kid in tow. Having just fought a pair of honest to god monsters, it'd be nice to get some conversation with someone that obviously had experience in hunting that delved a bit deeper than his own...especially someone that rode in on a motherfucking horse with a spear. Only thing missing was a cavalry charge and a damn trumpet when that fire exploded around the corner. Michael Bay would probably be proud as fuck.

As they walked along the streets, his eyes focused ahead, he started to speak out. "Takeda. Just go with that, alright?" Kid seemed alright, though Takeda wasn't particularly the best judge of character, but when someone entirely heals you right the fuck up after you nearly get disintegrated by some giant floating head's vicious case of halitosis, you tend to take a shine to them a bit sooner. "We keep walking, get somewhere safe, maybe wait it out." Not typically the kind to socialize with folks out of the blue, his words were a bit curt, blunt, but hell, the kid had experience fighting these things, and to boot? It was the only other hunter he had ever ran into besides his brother...hunter, yeah, that term really works.

[Akira Nakajima]

A quiet laugh escaped Akira at the man's comment to his joke. Only one watching would have noticed, as his shoulders lightly jerked just once. It was in equally bad and morbid taste as his. Seemed the man was a smoker, as well. He wasn't one to condone acts that wore down and destroyed one's body, but it wasn't his place to preach. Not his body, and he didn't want to strain a potentially good relationship with allies. Turned out, the man's name was Takeda. No family name. Unless that was the family name. Sounded a bit odd for a family, though. Either way, be it true or false, a name was a name, and he wasn't going to begrudge the other for it.

”Got it. Works for me.” Similarly short on words, the boy nodded, leveling his spear before he willed for Hayagriva to reappear. If they were on the streets, movement was ideal. He could run something fierce if needed, but that horse was built more for it than he. The horse seemingly “bowed”, lowering itself for Akira. Like that, the boy got a better vantage point, as well as a good source of speed, should the need to run present itself. The streets were, oddly enough, clear for the time being. He certainly wasn't complaining.

”If we should encounter anything particularly aggressive, let me know if you can't run. Pretty sure Hayagriva can carry two. Stronger than me despite being me. Pretty convenient.” Though it was more a casual statement, the boy was still smiling. It was ironic, truly, but there was humor in it, as well. ”Overall, these things seem to like Ikebukuro. Outside of hiding, which may not work, you're bound to encounter something nasty in the streets if you wait around long enough. Shinjuku, overall, seems little less dangerous. Stick away from hospitals, though.” It could be seen as speaking to quell the silence, but there was no harm in sharing bits with the other- it was part of having human allies. Moreover, if he shared information, maybe the other party would have something new to add.

[Takeda Akiyama]

Looking forwards into that dark night around them, Takeda couldn't help it, the compulsion to say it was far too damn strong. "Yeah, that's real appealing, get hoisted onto a horse, ride through the streets. All I need is a bonnet and a disney song and we'd have ourselves a proper get-away." Oh boy, he had blurted that one out far too quick for his brain to even register it. Sarcasm was the typical forte when dealing with customers, and he knew better than use it around someone with a god damn spear atop a magical motherfucking horse. Oh well. Already said and done. What's more, is that he knew he didn't have the lung capacity for running long distances. Cancer sticks had seen to that quite some time ago, though, he loathed the idea of telling the youth that...fucking teenagers and their fully functioning lungs.

Slowly, he turned his head during the long walk over towards his would-be escort at the time, and spoke out again, the cigarette dangling from his mouth with each word. "Wondering what in the hell they are, by this point." Once more, his voice was dry, but hell, he was trying, after all, it's hard to break the ice when you're walking through what could called a demonic Baghdad. "Eldritch abominations, some sorta demons...can't rule out the possibility that they're being spawned from beneath my old mattress." Turning his head back forward, he thought pretty damn hard on what they were, something he'd been trying to puzzle out for quite some time. All he was used to when it came to these things was going out, putting a few down, and hoping to  gain a deeper understanding of the places they dwelt in by proxy. God, it sounded even dumber the more he thought about it. This museum shit had been his once chance at getting out of this hellhole, even if it meant leaving the place without anything on his back.

Wait. Wait. Something had slipped by in the haze of thoughts, in puzzling what in the hell it was they were fighting. Stronger than...we're still gonna go with it despite also being it? Okay, that definitely confirmed the link between these ghost-like phantasms that were popping up behind his brother and himself. This one could outright ride on it's ghostly little horse, so god damn, there had to be something reaching deeper than just summoning some sort of boojum in this sort of shit then. Connection established, he kept his left hand in his pocket, the right on his pistol, and tilted his head up to look a bit down the street. Abandoned, warped buildings lay everywhere, so the choice of where they went was pretty god damn open. "So you named yours, eh?" Well...there went the cat right out of the bag. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, so hell, it wouldn't hurt...he had no idea what the mage was, if it had a name, or hell, if it was a mage. For all he knew it could've just been Santa after a particularly bad run, manifesting over his shoulder to fuck up demons.

Why'd that sound pretty kickass?

[Akira Nakajima]

"I'll treat you like the princess you always wanted to be while you sing about a whole new world, sure, if that's your cup of tea." Without wasting a beat, the boy let that line fly in the wake of Takeda's "Disney" quip. A quiet chuckle escaped him. It was in the same jocular- as he interpreted it- manner of the man's own comment. When the man went on to comment about the nature of their enemies, the boy raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Takeda had only encountered the beings during that additional hour? Perfectly easy way to verify that, though. The boy, after a while, shifted the spear to his right hand while wiping the sweat off his left palm. He quickly replaced the spear to its home, though.

"Until I find a better term, I'll stick to calling them monsters, myself. They vary from blobs to hands, from furniture to vehicles, and some of them even fly. I'm a little wary of the ground, to be honest. No telling if one of them can drill through the dirt. But I will say one thing: If you've been on the other side of those portals, you'll see things a bit more along the lines of demons. Fairies, spirits. Nonsense you'd see in a fairy tale from the west. That's just the park in Shibuya. I honestly don't even know what else is wandering around beyond that location. A good chunk of me doesn't want to stake out the grounds without some partners, too." He let that sink in for a moment while sending a gaze out to the side. He even twisted at the waist to look behind them. All clear for now. How very convenient.

"I wouldn't so much as say I named it, as the name made itself known." Akira's tone was a little uncertain. "I'm not exactly a buff of the supernatural. The closest I get to it would be the occurrences I read in literature. Despite that, I managed to understand that this horse was named Hayagriva. Calling it anything else just seemed wrong. Maybe it was the fact that I was bleeding pretty badly at the time, and the most unique name that somehow fell together in my mind managed to imprint itself as a fact. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it just is." He shrugged lightly before fixing the man with that pair of red and blue.

"Going by that question, though, is it that your Persona lacks a name? Or, rather, that you haven't identified it yet?" His tone was purely neutral. Well, neutral with a tinge of curiosity. In truth, while Akira was performing various tests, there was only so much he could do when it came to other Users. Some were cooperative. Some weren't. Picking the pieces that fit in which spots was a game he'd have to play carefully.

[Takeda Akiyama]

A short, half-stifled laugh managed to escape from Takeda's throat  before he could quite stop it. Well, fuck, he left himself wide open for that one of course, but he'd one up the kid...he'd one up the kid while they were walking down a warped version of one of Tokyo's streets with fucking monsters watching them ramble on, sure. Why the hell not? Couldn't be any worse than working at Manga-Max if one of them ate 'em. Just probably have his soul sent to Yog Sothoth, or hell, no, no. He deserved better, in his mind. Let ol' Shub Niggurath get hers for a change. "Comparing me to Jasmine? That's fuckin' low. I rate at least, at least, an Ariel on that scale." Looking on forward, he eventually rounded a corner, holding his pistol up for a brief moment to check. All was clear, save for some awkward movements inside some of the warped buildings...god damn, it was like vultures circling around a soon to be dead animal out in the desert.

Then the kid said it, the park...holy shit, someone else had been through that little hellhole besides him and Seiji. Well, at least he wasn't going batshit. Or the kid was a figment of his imagination. If so, he really, really needed to lay off of the harder stuff. Couldn't manage to discern the gender, even now...didn't know if these things could take human shapes. Couldn't do a damn thing, really, in his mind. "You too, huh?" Lowering his voice to a somewhat more quiet tone to at least try to avoid drawing the big fish, and end up having to ride on the back of some weird, androgynous figure's horse, and to keep from embarrassing himself in doing so. "Got cut up by some knife eared little prick there...got 'em though." Conveniently enough, he left Seiji out of that one...for the best to kind of hold information back on a first meeting. "Bullets work on some, not on others...and I'll be damned if that weird floating mage shit doesn't usually do the trick."

Takeda had no idea what made the card show up, no idea what to do to have it show up more often, but lord did he ever need to see it more often. As it was? It was just him, an old beretta pistol, and hopefully just one of these demons. Theories were abound in his head about the park though. Didn't take a genius to think that this hour was twisting something latent about the places that people frequented. Old college memories of being bored with the idea of the noosphere started to click into place, as he heard the kid talk about his phantom coming naturally to...it. Being able to understand it's name from the get-go...something like that didn't click with him. There was nothing to this thing other than the fact that it straight-up just existed. Or was some really bitchin' hallucination. Turning his head after a bit, he first noticed it. Kid had a heterochromia. Something about it sent a chill through him...didn't know why, probably just that feeling you get when you notice something jarring about a person's appearance. Didn't make the kid ugly, no, in-nope.

Stopping himself on that thought, he threw the cigarette to the ground. Hopefully it'd catch this whole shitty concrete jungle on fire, but he doubted he'd be that lucky. Apparently the kid had it's own first manifest when it was injured and in a rough spot too...maybe that was the catalyst. Maybe that's why he couldn't quite get his to work sometimes. Hell, he'd been in danger though, more than a little bit, he nearly got cut by some elf that nearly skipped rope with his gutty-works. "Well, since we're both speaking right from the heart here..." Takeda hoped the sarcasm didn't fly over his young companion's head. "No, no name, no idea what it is. Just showed up once, then again tonight. No idea why." Withholding information again, he didn't want to mention his half-brother, or even his last name at this point. "So uh...Akira, right?" His tone wasn't nervous, more calm than anything, whilst not losing any of that recently made quiet tone. "You got absolutely any idea what they...do to people?"

[Akira Nakajima]

”Under the sea, that's where you'll be; in an underwater land filled with a crabby band? Or something like that. I don't typically pay much attention to seafood outside of whether or not it's good.” He let that joke die down, though. A little bit of good humor was worthwhile to keep a mood like that one more on the positive side. As they circled the corner, the youth scanned upwards, then to the opposite direction. All clear. He nodded when the lowly uttered inquiry made its way to his ears, but remained mostly quiet as he took in their surroundings. Sure enough, things were moving inside of the buildings, but, unless they were immune to kinetic impact, it was doubtful they'd drop down to start a ruckus.

”I've noticed that some of the larger things seem to be pretty resilient to physical attacks in their entirety. Fortunately, I can last in a battle of attrition, but I'm sadly lacking on the offensive side, barring this spear.” That was a half-truth. Hayagriva, while not a weapon in itself, could be used with great synergy in combat. Still, a spear could only do so much, and if that means of offense was complete barred, then he'd have to get creative. Wouldn't have been the first time he needed to utilize creative problem solving. He often had to think outside of the box when cornering and preying on smaller companies. At the comment of their discussion being a heart to heart, he let out a quiet laugh before slowly nodding at the response he received. Slowly, he nodded to the other question- at least, to his name being Akira. Hayagriva's movements slowed a bit with the new question. That was a can of worms on its own, really.

”Ideas? Sure. Factual knowledge, though? No. Like I said before, they seem to be divided into two different classes- the one encountered like now, in our world, during this time at midnight, and the ones in the other dimension. Realistically speaking, the things here seem more beast-like. Not quite intelligent. If I had to make a guess, I'd say they were running off simple instinct, basic organic programming. Either seek and destroy anything in their territory that doesn't, to them, belong, or hunting and gathering food. Whether they consume the bodies whole, parts of us, or even something that's not entirely physical is beyond me. Also, keep in mind the coffins. This could be interpreted as normal humans being lambs to an unseen slaughter, or sardines in cans, ripe to be opened and eaten.” He paused for a moment, lightly rubbing at his hairless chin.

”The ones in the other world seem a bit more intelligent, at least overall. If I had to make a guess regarding them, they're, to us, as we are to animals. Some of them don't care. Some of them will kill us for sport. Some hunt us down as food. Others, still, hunt and use our bodies as parts of goods. Ultimately, though, these are just theories. Unless I see it, or hear it from a reputable source, I can only assume. Still, I'd probably bet some pocket money on it.” He slowly shrugged, fixing the man with his gaze again. ”Your thoughts, Takeda?”

[Takeda Akiyama]

Walking while listening, keeping his eyes forward and his gun at his side, Takeda gritted his teeth at the mention of some of these damned things being immune entirely to physical attacks. Sure, some did take his bullets like champs, those were the situations where he had to improvise, or book it straight the hell out of there if there was no other option. God, it pained him a bit, no, more than a bit. Seiji's ghostly knight was summoned on the regular, this kid had a motherfucking horse that could heal people, and what'd Takeda have? The equivalent of a flintlock, in terms of ghosts, 'n an old beretta that, unfortunately, didn't have unlimited ammunition. If he was lucky, the mage would show itself, blast something, then leave...if not? Well, it boiled down to him using his often alcohol addled mind to try and outsmart something. Fuckin-A, it was enough to make him a bit sick with himself. Nothing new there, though.

Whilst earlier in the conversation, the kid once more had cracked a joke, something seemed to change the moment that...god damn it, was he really going to have to ask? This was already awkward as is, seeing as he was being escorted by the kid on a horse after having just broken into a shadow museum in the vain hope that he could score some cash. Shit was absurd. But, nevertheless...the kid had slowed down after a bit when it came to his remark about what the things did to people. Now, Takeda wasn't the most empathetic sort, but hell on wheels did he wonder why it slowed it down. Could've been something personal, could've been it was lost in thought. Scratching the back of his neck, he listened carefully to the rider's thought out explanation in regards to the behaviors and patterns that it had encountered during it's hunts. True, dreadfully true it was, that the shit in the park seemed a hell of a lot smarter than some of the roaming vultures he and his half-brother had hunted down and put to rest. Lowering his left hand from the back of his neck, he thought for a bit...didn't know the kid, but there was certainly a degree of experience there that he didn't quite have when it came to these things.

The question reached Takeda's ears as he turned his head to look at the rider, and once more, they met eyes. Holy shit was there something about those eyes that made him wanna look away for a moment...he didn't though. Unique little genetic mutation, a heterochromia, not disfiguring, but odd in it's own way, shocking, if you hadn't seen one before, as was the case for Takeda. Only in high-school did he see any of that shit, and it was in a book. "Welp..." At that exact moment of thought, thousands of little theories bubbled 'n churned in his head at once, and he slowed his pace to almost match that of the rider. Theories as to the noosphere, which he had nearly dozed off to in college, started coming to life, eldritch abominations were another, and holy shit if there wasn't something to him that just screamed out that he left the fridge door open one night and these fuckers poured on out. Takeda didn't consider himself the brightest bulb in the shed, nor did he have enough experience to really put anything out there...he knew he'd probably sound like a jackass, but fuck it...here we go.

"For me? Fuckers seem to recognize that we have these...god, I still don't know what to call them. Anyway, they know that we have them, and they attack on sight. Coffins? Ain't seen them do shit to 'em. Maybe they know we're a threat, something a bit deeper than all that, maybe, but I'm sticking with 'me see thing that could kill me, me smash' being their train of thought." In his head, Takeda was pretty much cursing himself out for the simplistic bullshit he was about to spew out. No experience tended to make you look like a jackass either way. "You're right in that they differ depending on where they are, yeah, and the ones through that portal shit? Definitely smarter. Something tells me though...these fuckers on this side, they don't seem like the type to eat. Maybe they're takin' them back to where they came from." Shrugging his shoulders, the clerk looked at the androgynous figure and spoke aloud, "Maybe they take 'em, all gift-wrapped 'n shit, drag 'em back there, and do something to 'em. Portals, after all, maybe the weak ones are just drones. Or vultures."

[Akira Nakajima]

With a quiet "Mm" the boy nodded and looked forward after hearing Takeda's theories. For the most part, the man's guesses, while different in terms of explanation, were roughly the same in essence to his own. The creatures outside the other world were acting on some basic, primal urges. Hunger, for one. Fear as a possible other. Those theories only helped support the boy's own. Of course, they could have both been entirely wrong, but Takeda had, outside of smoking, seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, with an attention to detail, or so him cleaning up the shells after himself suggested. Akira would have liked to think that two individuals in their right mind, agreeing on a theoretical matter like that, would manage to get it right.

But, hey. He wasn't a scientist.

"They're all reasonable." He conceded after moment. He hadn't paid much attention to the state of the coffins, outside of their presence and what he tested with at home. "We can't rightly verify any of it as things are, but we can certainly assume for the time being. That's how science works, not that I'm a scientist or interested in that field especially. I'll agree to it, at least." He noted before Hayagriva's pace returned to normal. Speeding on through while holding a thought-provoking discussion was a good way to remain distracted when turning a corner, or neglecting something particularly nasty that would've otherwise been noticed.

Couldn't have any of that.

"Honestly, it shouldn't be too much longer before reality returns. I have to ask- do you mind exchanging numbers once the phones start working again? Any noteworthy information can be exchanged pretty quickly via texts, and it'd help in organizing outings for the sake of improved survivability." While it'd be a stretch to call the man a friend, it was undeniable that they were both capable of using Personas. Add that the man was out there fighting, and with a gun, and he at least seemed to be willing to investigate. He had curiosity and the ability. It was a worthwhile effort to become "allies", if for no other reason than to increase their survival rate.

"And, if not, that, too, is fine." He added. No need to put the man on the spot. He might not have even been a social person- not everyone had a cellphone in Tokyo. He, unlike others his age, was aware of that.

[Takeda Akiyama]

There was a feeling in the night air, something electric as Takeda strolled alongside his newfound amigo on the sidewalk. 'Bout the only thing he hoped was that the horse ghost thing the kid was riding wasn't about to take a dump on the walk and make some poor guy's life hell when things went back to normal. Last thing this city needed after the gates to some other fucking dimension opened up was some horse shit all over the sidewalk. Slowly, he tucked his hands back into his jacket's pockets, onto his beretta, on the pack of cigarettes, and he gave a look up to the green sky. "Ain't exactly a scholar or anything, but, if you'll pardon my French, and if the language barrier isn't too great here...I think we're fucked." Takeda said in a calm, normal tone that you would probably use when addressing a bunch of students in a class room. 

This kid had fairly the same idea as him, could take a joke, and well, it didn't exactly hurt that he had literally rode in on a warhorse with a spear like some sort of weird, androgynous Mongol 'n healed him. Seemed like they had the same conclusions too, save for the fact that deep down, Takeda knew that he didn't want to know what these things did with people. Whether it was eating them, kidnapping them, or worse, forcin' 'em to sing show tunes in some alternate reality somewhere, he honestly didn't want to know. Keeping pace, Takeda only pulled the pistol out one more time, taking the magazine out to make a rough estimate of how many bullets he had used up in the resulting crossfire. Too fucking many. Sometimes, under the panic in these hunts, it became difficult to keep from squeezing off rounds like he was in a John Woo movie...if he couldn't summon up his ghost shit more often, he'd be running out of ways to fight.

Tilting his head back up, tucking his gun away, Takeda turned his attention back to the kid...ugh, why the hell couldn't he even venture a guess? Nah, tones were too feminine...but Akira's a neutral name...but...oh why the hell would he even give a fuck? Then, the kid popped a question that Takeda fully prepared for, establishing long-term contact to hunt monsters? Sign him right the fuck up. "Aww, ya' want my number already? We just met, 'n you didn't even buy me a drink." Humor was the fallback, usual coping mechanism after dealing with beasties...but, Takeda kept his smile suppressed. Getting out of that shop, out of that place, made 'em feel a bit better, but it was a shame it only happened during the hour where he had to risk his fucking life fighting monsters to hopefully reason shit out.

As for the actual phone numbers exchangin'...well, hell, he wasn't actually accustomed to giving that out. Wasn't exactly the type to go out 'n about, phone friends, hell, he barely managed to get out of the house, out of the shop, the fuck was a social life? "Got a land-line, if that's what you're saying. Can't text, 'course..." Shrugging his shoulders, Takeda pocketed the gun for the final time, stopping in place to turn and get a look at the kid again. Akira carried itself pretty well, mannerisms 'n words suggested quite a bit in...god damn it, "It's" noggin. Another hunter, another line to work with if things got rough...hard to dismiss.

[Akira Nakajima]

”Well, that's certainly one way of looking at it.” Akira lightly commented, tilting his head, with the man's morbid opinion. Maybe they were. Maybe this was the end of the world. However, even if that were the case? He had the power to stand up to those monsters. So long as he had that capability, he would utilize it as best he could. He didn't work himself up to the point of being a business owner just to swim in cash and call it good. No, he had much bigger aspirations, and if the world itself wanted to try to end, well, he'd do what he could to stop that. Fortunately, he didn't think it would be on such a level. Something was very obviously wrong, but he was going to keep a much more positive outlook on it.

What he didn't expect was that his open-minded respect of others would actually prove correct. Takeda, in fact, did not have an actual cell phone. It was true that not everyone got cell phones, but the youth was just a little surprised to actually meet a person like that. It was like meeting foreigners- a special occasion. Still, the boy lightly laughed. Not at the man, per se, but at his attempts at humor. He could not fault the man, though. It might have even been the older male's attempt at trying to keep him, the younger, at ease. While unnecessary, it was still in good taste. He wasn't going to get offended, unlike some people he'd had the displeasure of dealing with- especially in business gatherings.

”I'd be slightly challenged in getting some alcohol, considering my age. I could always spot you some money if you wanted a night out on the town, though. You're really doing quite well at channeling your inner woman. First a princess, then getting treated to drinks? The good life.” The boy playfully winked before shifting slightly on Hayagriva's back. ”Ah, but, more seriously!” A light chuckle escaped him. He was clearly just teasing, nothing serious. ”Any number works. Texting won't be an option, granted, but word of mouth works plenty well, too. At the very least, organizing outings with small groups will be possible. If we can wrestle together a solid group, I imagine we could safely tackle an area and get some real answers- like how to stop this mess.” He slowly nodded before stretching his right arm out behind him.

”Plus, if you're having problems getting your partner out,” He patted at Hayagriva's neck, ”I could let you know if I find something to make it more reliable.” It was at that point that he shifted about. That “time” was sure to end soon. That was why he allowed Hayagriva to shimmer and dissipate. The boy dropped, shifting into a squat as his weight pushed down on his bent knees. The boy hadn't slipped, though. As though comfortable, he planted the spear across his lap, slipping his hand into a pocket. As though he were some detective, he pulled out a small notepad and pencil. Not a pen or a mechanical pencil, but an honest to God mini-pencil.

”Of course, it'd be inconvenient for you to give yours with nothing in return, especially if you got a lead and wanted to let someone know. And, admittedly, shit happens. I'll just. . . get this down.” And, as he spoke, he scribbled down a number quite clearly, as well as adding a name next to it, just in case. ”I can either write yours down or whatever, as well.” He noted before neatly ripping the page out and offering it up to the man. It might have been a little forward, but ambition and drive were often what won the battle. And there was quite the battle to win in Tokyo.

[Takeda Akiyama]

Oh boy, there was no helping the grin that slowly started to form it's way on Takeda's face, as he heard the rather light reply in the form of "Well, that's certainly one way of looking at it." come from over in Akira's direction. Hiding the grin via turning his head away for a bit, he only once dared a look over at the youth, and saw that Akira was tilting his head...whilst it was true, Takeda had no idea as to what in the hell the coming darkness meant, it did make 'em a bit amused at the fact that the rider had taken him fully serious. End of the world or no, hell...part of this shit gave him a purpose, he supposed, which was nice. Something other than dealing with people that loved to talk about their fucking imaginary girlfriends, or sitting around the house...or the nights out. God, since Seiji had been around, he hadn't been out drinking in years...was somebody going to report him missing too? Ah, fuck...that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all, would it? He'd of course have to go down to the local bar, and disprove those rumors after tonight. He earned it, in his mind.

Though he loathed to admit it, these few hunts while he was out during the change were essentially the only way he'd get to understand a damned bit of his predicament, or at least, that's the way it was before he gained the idea that now, there were other people that could summon up the ghostly little helpers to fuck up whatever these abominations were. Brought him some joy, that did, however slight. Hunting like this went a bit deeper, somewhere deep seeded in his brain by this point, like it was his only real alternative to being...ugh, there. His only choice, really. Oh well though, those were thoughts that didn't belong in the here and now, because they were startin' to circle that dark little drain he wasn't going anywhere near in terms of thoughts. Fuck that. Fuck that right in the ear. From what he could tell, the kid was at least getting a chuckle out of what scant few jokes there were to be made, and that was good. Couple of snarky remarks, the real shit'd go down, back to a couple more...that's the way he was used to. Ease into things. Humor made for a great sedative when the whole world around you was warped into this weird shit, cold, desolate, like something out of some edgemaster's interpretation of a fairy-tale, or modern life.

With both hands gripping his only few possessions that he had brought out for the night, Takeda wondered about the possibility of more of them being out there, other people with the ability to summon. Well, shit wasn't entirely fucked. For all he knew, military could've already weaponized this shit. Make for a horrible direct to video horror film if that was the case, bad CGI and all. But yes, there was a bit of solace to be taken from that. Long since had the grin he was sporting faded, replaced by that rather typical, almost tired look that he had adopted so many a time...both the night, and the hunt, were long. And the kid just had to push 'em on with another one. His feminine side? His feminine side? Oh that was it, fine, he didn't want to put this one out there, but god damn was it there. "My feminine side? You're the one who charged on into a museum on a horse, looking all dolled up, kid...besides, you don't exactly sound masculine yourself...still no idea if that's applicable in your case." With an amused little grunt, Takeda looked back at the rider...that last bit was meant to stay in his head, but god damn if he didn't blurt it out in a pretty audible whisper. Playing it off was the smooth thing to do...right? 

With a small amount of grace, the rider had dropped off of it's horse, to the ground in a crouched position, offering a pencil out to him with paper to match. Holding his hand out, Takeda took up the paper and pencil, holding the paper between both hands, the pencil in between his fingers. With one quick motion, he made a neat rip where there was some blank space, and held the paper up against the flat of a wall, writing his own name, ever so neatly on it with the pencil, alongside his number of course. Tucking Akira's number in the same pocket as his cigarettes, he extended out his own to the new contact, with every single letter in his name written in an almost calligraphic style. "If you can get whatever the hell that ghost is to come out more often, so I'm not caught with my pants down, you bet your sweet ass you can have my number." Kid seemed genuine, that was one of the things he definitely noted from the start, but more than anything, the prospect of shaking off that feeling of uselessness? That was all the incentive he needed. Chances for cooperation didn't hurt much either, a chance at returning shit to normal, or at least not dying out in the streets entirely alone.

[Akira Nakajima]

To say that Akira was mildly surprised when Takeda commented on being unsure of his gender was. . . actually very accurate. Perhaps it was the darkness? That was entirely solid excuse for the man's inability to determine. After all, he wasn't making it that hard to guess. Was he? It would be bothersome if his “neutral” was gradually being interpreted as feminine. While it did not bother him, it would make a few things complicated. Still, despite that, he maintained a pleasant enough expression. He felt that he and Takeda would likely fight alongside each other in the future. No reason not to. If so, it'd make a good joke to lighten the mood, he figured. Or to get under the man's skin. Either way, it was all in good fun.

”If it's getting that easy to get my gender confused, things will certainly get interesting, at the very least. It's certainly worrisome. I wasn't even trying to hide it.” With a shake of his head, and exaggerated shrug, and a silent sigh, he just offered the man a smile while fixing his gaze on him. ”Then, allow me to make sure to dispel the doubts. I am Nakajima Akira. Despite what you may see, I am most certainly male.” He put emphasis on his pronouns. Honestly, he tended to utilize neutral, subdued pronouns. In this case, he made sure to utilize “ore” and other masculine terms. Additionally, he made a small effort to put a little more force into his words, making his voice firmly register as boyish, manly.

”No worries, though. You wouldn't have been the only one to be confused before. And it's probably not being helped by the lighting here.” He nodded. Before, he typically tried to make it ambiguous, just to tease. He'd need to make a conscious effort to differentiate if it became more of a problem. Still, either way, it seemed that the exchange of contacts was properly carried out. The boy pocketed the pad and pencil once everything was situated before straightening himself and standing.

”Good to have you. I'll definitely let you know if I find out anything good.” He paused, then developed an impish grin. ”Or if I find a nice dress, I'll get your opinion on it.” Whether he meant for himself or Takeda was the joke. And, gradually, the Dark Hour ended. Life resumed, as did everything that humanity stood for. The monster were gone, and the two males had one small issue left.

”If you'll excuse me, I need to be dismantling this to carry it off. Stay safe out there. Try not to get any attention from the police.” While he had no issue with Takeda, he knew full well about the strictness of the gun laws. He was, admittedly, neutral to guns in terms of utilizing them for a purpose, but, whether it was as a Japanese or as a child still, he didn't feel quite comfortable with them himself. Still, he nodded and lightly waved before heading deeper into the alley to find some cover while he did his work.