Angry Mob [Takeda]

[Lucretia Odovacar]

Lucretia had been listening closely to the other users' motives and personalities, hoping to find someone to investigate some of the more dangerous areas of the other world.  It was one thing to put yourself in danger, but it was another thing entirely to do something that may be another person in danger.  However, if she wanted to learn the rules to the other world, or learn about the behavior of the creatures, then this was a necessary exercise.  

She had three goals today: first, see if she could summon her persona outside of the other world, second, see how 'normal' people react to the persona, and third, see exactly what's in those coffins that appear in the midnight other world.  They were straight-forward enough, but there was quite a bit of risk involved.  If a normal person saw what could only be described as a demonic eye monster appear behind her it was entirely possible she could start a panic, and she had no idea what would happen if she opened one of those coffins.  This may deter some people from experimenting all together, but all it meant for her was that she had to be careful.

These goals brought her to some place she would never go under ordinary circumstances: Kabukicho.  Lucretia may not have been in Tokyo long, but she heard so many things about this place.  About the only thing anyone would find here were sex and drugs, the poorest form of entertainment.  She was just interested in what such an environment produced: intoxicated people.  Her persona's form was perfect for this.  It was distinct enough that if a normal person saw it, they would definitely have a reaction, but indistinct enough that they would likely be willing to pass it off as a drunken hallucination.  

Even though her reasons for being here were entirely reasonable and not ridiculous like the reasons most of the people here likely had, she still didn't want to be seen here.  No one could read her mind, no one would understand  that she wasn't THAT kind of person.  Lucretia didn't want people to get the wrong idea.  So, she came to the area wearing jeans and a hoodie that was a little too big for her.  She kept the hood up so that it would cover most of her face, and kept her hands in her pockets so that none of her skin was showing unless someone looked carefully.  Between that and the fact that she was mostly sticking to the back alleys to avoid as many people as possible, it just made her look more suspicious.

The clock on her glasses computer read 11:45.  Now was a good time to get into position.  There were a several bars in this district, but there were only a couple Lucretia was interested in.  The one she choose to look for people in was a particularly run-down place that only served cheap drinks and food.  She figured if worst came to worst, this is the kind of place that would attract people that were less likely to have connections.  In other words, people would be less inclined to care if anything happened to them.

11:50, it was almost time to strike.

As if on queue, as she rounded the corner to an alley way near the bar, someone ran out the back door and started puking in one of the piles of garbage in the alley.  Judging from the angry shouts coming from the back door, he didn't actually start puking there.  How disgusting.  The man appeared to be in his early 20s.  She would have preferred someone a little older, but he would do.  She waited a moment for him to stop vomiting, so that he would look up.  It was important that he be looking in her general direction.  Eventually, he lifted his head, and rolled onto a small pile of trash bags.

11:55, the alley was filled with a blue light as she summoned her persona.  The man didn't appear to notice.  From the back of her head, a blob of light and darkness emerged as though it was working its way out of a small hole in the back of her head.  Eventually, two glowing red eyes appeared, one stacked on the other, and stared at the target.  He was staring at her now, mumbling something along the lines of 'what's your problem' that she could barely understand.  There was still no reaction to the demonic presence behind her.  Just for fun, she had her persona float over to him and sit directly in front of his face.  Still no reaction.  She would have to run a few more tests just to make sure, but it seemed very likely that normal people could not see her persona, and it was 100% confirmed that she could summon her persona in the normal world.  She pushed her glasses up, and used her analysis skill on this human.  The result surprised her.  No skills, no strengths, and he was considered weak to everything.  She supposed that explained why she could take a few fireballs to the chest, but it would likely kill a normal person.

12:00, the whole world changed.  The sky turned an eerie green, and the moon an even eerier yellow.  As expected, the man transformed into a coffin.  This confirmed that those coffins were indeed people for sure.  It was impossible to deny it when the transformation happened right in front of her face.  With no hesitation, she casually walked towards the coffin, her persona trailing behind her.  A quick examination didn't reveal anything unusual; it was just a red coffin.  She then, closed her eyes and scanned the area around her.  There were several shadows around, most of them more powerful than she was used to.  There weren't too many though, and most of them were over a mile away.  She didn't detect any odd movements from them, they were just roaming about as usual.  The only concern she had was that there were four reasonable close by.  It didn't seem like they were coming this way though, so she should be safe for the time being.

All she did was poke the coffin to see what it felt like.  It didn't feel like much of anything really, but more shockingly, that was enough to cause the coffin to suddenly disappear and for the person to reappear.  Lucretia jumped backwards half in shock half in 'I really don't want to touch this person.'  Granted, her shock didn't come close to the poor man's.  He looked like he was about to wet himself and looked even less coherent than he did five seconds ago.

That wasn't the end to the surprises though.  The moment Lucretia touched that coffin the shadow stopped moving and then immediately started moving towards her location.  Or perhaps it was more accurate to say the man's location.  To test that, she ran into the bar, just far enough away from the  man that, if the shadows were following her she would be able to notice the changes in their movement.  Nothing about their movement changed, so they were clearly targeting the normal human.  It was a very interesting discovery.  She wasn't quite prepared to let this man be a sacrifice to her studies, but she also didn't intend to die for him.  Or even touch him for that matter.

"Follow me if you want to live."

Her voice was completely calm, as though she weren't in a life or death situation or telling someone that they might die.  The man just stood there in shock for a moment, but quickly scrambled to his feet and ran into the bar with her.  Once he was in, she slammed the door shut.  It wouldn't help against the ones that could go through walls, but it might stop a few of them.  Maybe.  She wasn't sure how  many of them could go through walls and how many of them couldn't.  She reached into her pockets as she ran into the bar proper.  She had a wad of rubber bands, a few pens and a notebook; the last two for taking notes.  That would probably not be enough to handle as many shadows as were coming, so she was going to have to use the tools the bar offered as well.  She scanned the area.  Most of it was as she expected; lots of drinks in glass bottles, several glasses, several tables, chairs and stools...but there was something odd there.  There was a human that did not turn into a coffin.  Did he have the power as well?  Fortunately, she didn't even need to ask.  This man gave her some very valuable information: there was a clear difference between what she scanned in users vs non-users, and the result of this scan showed that he was indeed a user.  An offensive user at that.  Perfect, that would make this much easier if he didn't decide to run.

"There are 12 creatures coming here.  They are moving very quickly.  Four of them should be here in the next two minutes.  If you want to try to run, you may be able to get away if you go through that window," she pointed at one of the windows, "and run very fast, in exactly the right angle.  Otherwise, you will probably run into a mob of hungry monsters."

There was no particular amount of concern in her voice.  If they were after her she might be, but since they were after someone else there wasn't a lot to be worried about.  Lucretia started setting up a few traps with the rubber bands she was carrying and the various chairs and glass bottles here.  Even if they could come through the walls, as long as they weren't immune to 'strike' attacks, this would likely hurt them a lot.

"I am going to set up a defense.  If you want to help me fight them, we will have a better chance of leaving this building.  I do not have any offensive magic, but I can tell you what the creatures can do."

She spoke inside his head.  There was no reason to let the man hear any of this.  Lucretia's accent was strong as always, making her Italian heritage very obvious to anyone that would recognize the accent.

As the last bit of set-up for her trap, she pushed the man off to one particular corner to attract the shadows.  He probably wouldn't escape this without a few small injuries, but it was better than being dead right?

[Takeda Akiyama]

"All I'm doing is just going there to show those fucks I'm still alive, and maybe grab a drink. Won't hurt to indulge myself now and then. They'll see I'm fine, worries assuaged like that, and I get a drink or two. Kid can handle himself for the night. There's no harm to it. Just gotta be smart, get home after a bit...there's no harm to it."

Repeating it in his head wasn't really working after a while, even though he had been thinking of it long before he got off of work downstairs. Pulling his old leather jacket over his dingy t-shirt, Takeda leaned over the sink, and splashed cold water on his face a few times. Tilting his head up from the off-white porcelain fixture that he leaned against, his eyes finally caught the mirror. Tired. Yeah, that was the word for it, he was fucking tired, he needed a break, that was all. All he needed was a little break, a cold brew that wasn't one of those god damned cans that tasted like dish soap, a few folks around to chatter around him, that was all. Looking in the mirror, his blank expression slowly shifted to a slight frown...he knew that wasn't true. None of those fuckers mattered, they were just scattered voices in the background that he could pin voices to. Little action figures that stood around, had their strings pulled, spouted off some bullshit, then sat back down. Nah, this wasn't about them. Drink sounded good though, lately, the only thing fueling the little furnace in his head was cheap fast food, cheaper alcohol, and coffee from the shop across the street that tasted like old motor oil. He needed his. Had to get it across to himself that he needed this. Putting his hand to the side of the old metal medicine cabinet, he shifted his eyes over to his hand, slowly pulling it away. No, not tonight. This was his night. There was no need for that thing in any aspect. Was it such a crime to want to forget about all this nonsense for a day? To want to forget the kid in his shitty little apartment? To forget Manga-Max? To forget the Lovecraftian horrors that showed up in the middle of the night that probably looked at him like a juicy rib-eye steak? No. There was no harm in it. Just a few drinks, and he'd come on home. He'd skip out on the Dark Hour, sleep for a bit, and Seiji would never know he had left for even an instant. Was it such a crime to want forget? All he could do was look at that mirror, then over at the side where he could easily push away the cabinet. Fucking hell, this whole mess...

Another splash of cold water to the face, and he was out of the door to the apartment, having turned off both his newly replaced alarm clock, and Seiji's own...didn't need the little fucker waking up in the middle of the night looking for him. No, this was his time. The old wooden stairs creaked, almost like they were trying to give him away with every little step, but he slowed himself, crept along until he was in the store itself downstairs. Scanning his eyes across the racks of mindless drivel, the meaningless illustrations of hundreds of mangas greeted him with muted, yet assailing colors. Fuck, he hated this place. Hated upstairs, hated their stupid saucer eyes...shit could've been so much better than this. That's why he needed a drink or two, not for them, not for those puppets over at the bar, no, he needed this because he needed a choice he could make for once. That thought steeled his resolve quite a bit. Kid would be fine, hell yeah, he'd be fine. He'd have a fucking gun and a sword almost right in arm's reach if shit went bad there at the house, it wouldn't be like he'd be defenseless. Nah, he'd be fine...Takeda would be fine too. Just had to be smart, that's all, just had to be smart and make it home on time. Opening the back door of the shop, then promptly locking it up with his keys, he found himself greeted by the cold night air. Slowly, his typical look of indifference had shifted back onto his face as he looked off into the cloudy Tokyo night sky...part of him couldn't remember the last time he had just been out, partially because he wanted to forget the drunk and disorderly charges, and partially because he knew it wouldn't make anything better to do this. Was it guilt? Nah, it wasn't guilt in his mind. Didn't feel like guilt. Probably something else, he couldn't place it...once more, he reminded himself, speaking out in the cold whilst his breath became visible in the night air.

"Won't hurt to give in for a bit."

Like that, he made his way down the alleyway behind the shop, and made his way down the sidewalk, which was still crowded as all hell. Akihabara always stayed busy, with your typical otakus running around at all hours of the day like the fucking cockroaches they were, other people employed in this shit hole probably felt the same as him...these people were fucking disgusting. At least to him, at least the medium they chose. Fucking-A, being engaged in something without substance for that long, he couldn't understand it. Pushing his way along now and then, he made his way to the bus stop, empty at this time of night, and plopped himself down on the bench. Taking out the last cigarette of his pack, he lit it on up, watched as the smoke rings drifted off into the night while crowds made their way hither and thither. What was this shit about? Why was he even bothering to go there when he could get drunk at home? Doubts clashed with the desire to just indulge himself time and time again. Became an everyday part of life, really. But fuck it. Already here, already at the bus stop, there was no need to turn around, just a few drinks, and he'd be home. Aiko's was always a pretty decent place to go if you needed to get wasted, and the district it was in was perfect for most people that wanted to get smashed. Whores, booze, pick your poison, Kabukicho has what you want.

Bus took it's sweet time getting there, then getting to Kabukicho getting there. Of course, that was his perception of time, hard to not get antsy when you've got the equivalent scenario of a trip to the zoo waiting for you. His feet stepped out of the bus, right onto the sidewalk, and a rush of energy hit him. Fucking-A, he had done it, gotten away from that hell-hole, from Seiji, and Cthulu could suck a dick for all he cared, he was in Disneyland. Whole place rang out to him like some sort of music number from one of the shows he saw back in his college days. Hookers gave 'em the eye, tried to wave him over, neon signs illuminated the streets overhead, and he saw revelers occasionally stumble out of the doors of the innumerable bars, stores, and uh...parlors, if you could call 'em that. Though the reasons for stumbling were usually different. Fucking A, he felt like Lazarus himself. He was no scholar on western religion, but he was damn sure Lazarus didn't get called from the dead to have a kegger...his loss though. Didn't take long for him to notice the old familiar sight, a tacky little decoration of a rose held in a female hand, the name glowing in bright blue neon. Aiko's. Story behind the place was one he could scarcely remember through some of the paint-thinner like booze that the old man behind the bar sold. Cheap little old place, with a cheap little story of divorces, pre-nups and a hilarious bit about a donkey.

Passing by the nearby alleyway, Takeda dug his hands into his pockets, and pushed open the door. What greeted him was a sea of partially familiar faces who were sitting around, talking to themselves real quiet-like, and fucking-A if the old fucker working the bar hadn't had that mole on his nose removed still. Didn't take long to get back into the routine, to sit down at the bar stool and wait for familiar faces. The little puppets danced and talked as the shots slid across the bar. All was good, for a time, the world started to blur, the blissful state of drunkenness overtook him like the arms of an old lover. All was right in the world, for the first time in ages.

Vomit poured from Takeda's mouth like there was an endless supply of bile to be spewed up, his eyes were bloodshot, his mind wiped blank by the pain of dry heaving over the toilet. All across the stall, the vulgar little things carved inside by the hands of juvenile minded little bitches all seemed to be mocking him. His concept of time had left him about the same time he stumbled into the bathroom, and he leaned up against the wall...wasn't the first time he was stumbling around, drunk in this place. Having arrived at around eight at night, he was slowly coming down, and it was clear it was a battle he had lost. Well, paint thinner-1, Takeda-0. How long had it been like this? God, he couldn't even think clearly through the pain in his chest with each heave. That phrase, rock-bottom? Nah, didn't have a meaning here, there was only the pain of coming down from fun bit. Muddled thoughts ran through his brain...fuck the shadowy bullshit, fuck  Manga-Max, he could leave that place when he wanted to. Yeah...he was good enough to leave. Through the blur, he saw the toilet flush itself, being the neat little automatic number it was...he sat down after closing the lid, try and get stable. That was the best idea he had the entire night.

All he could remember on waking up on the porcelain throne, was that he had had a hell of a time out in the bar, and that thankfully, he locked the stall. There was pain in his stomach, a horrid taste on his lips, and worse yet, he knew he was coming down. Felt like he had been in the bathroom for hours, the toilet had dug into his back a bit while he was dreaming comfortable little dreams. The thought didn't hit him until he had stood up on the tiled floor. God damn it, no, no, no! He was so fucking stupid! Falling asleep in the bar? What was he thinking! Wasn't thinking, that was the clear answer, but fuck being rational about it, he had to get home. Opening up the stall door, he made his way out into the bathroom, and put his hands under the sink. Cold water, he needed cold water on his face, something to wake him u- Oh god. Oh god no. Automated sink, you would run your hand under it, water would come out, you could just up 'n go. It wasn't working. Lights weren't on. All of it hit him like a freight train. He was there during the Dark Hour. No gun, no  way to book it back home until all of it passed by. He was a dead man.

With the kind of speed that only the terrified and frustrated know, he flung open the door, getting a face full of red coffin, situated just opposite the door, wedged right between the women's restroom door. His heart sank a bit, as he turned his head so quick that he swore he could've hurt his fucking neck. All of 'em. All of them were coffins. Okay, maybe it wasn't the best idea thinking to himself that Cthulu could suck a dick, because it was clear he offended something...part of him caught a peek of movement behind the crowd of coffins, something vaguely human, as he saw another shape head towards the corner.

Words flooded his mind, like something was groping around inside of his skull, an accent thick voice grated against his mind, but it's message was clear. The bar was surrounded, and the distinctly feminine voice told 'em it was either fight, or get eaten by a bunch of the knock-off shaggoths. He was gonna go with option A. Something about it didn't seem right, though...was it the accent? Nah, nah, couldn't be, the last time he heard that ac-no. No, he hadn't heard that kind of accent other than during his time in Italy. During his studies, yes, just his studies. Repress, repress...yeah, just during his time studying. Didn't need to think of gas masks. Anywho, yeah, with coherent thought returning to him after visions of horror swirled through his head, he began to question things, as he reached for the nearest old barstool. Who the fuck was talking to him? Maybe it was a trick, or a dream? Yeah, maybe, maybe he'd wake up at home, maybe Seiji wouldn't be there, maybe all of this was some big hallucination. As all these things ran through his head, one big thought went through his own that made his heart sink...even if this was a dream, he couldn't hardly get the phantasm to manifest. Whatever that voice thought was dead wrong...all he had right now were some bottles and stools. Shaun of the Dead time, he supposed.

A thought ran through his head as to whether he should tell the disembodied voice of...well, he supposed that the Christian god probably wasn't a woman. Or Satan. Or Zeus. Yeah, definitely not Zeus, Zeus'd fuck his shit up for that. Anywho, he wondered if he should express his apologies, because god damn...he probably wouldn't get to summon the thing.

[Lucretia Odovacar]

There was no response, not even a vocal one.  She waited a moment as she continued stringing chairs and bottles together, but there wasn't much time to waste.  Then it dawned on her.  This might be more than just a case of him not knowing what the heck's trying to talk to him.  There were in a bar, so it wasn't entirely unreasonable that...Lucretia shook her head.  She really hoped that wasn't the case.  The last thing she needed in a case like this was two completely useless people to look after.

"I cannot read minds.  If you want to talk back you will need to 'think' your words at me.  If that is too hard then you can use your voice.  I am not far away.  This is easier because it is quiet and will not confuse the normal person here."

She sighed as she strung up the last few chairs and bottles.  All she had to do was pull the one rubber band holding it all together and the mess of chairs and bottles would fly into the back wall.  All she had to do was wait for a few shadows to gather there.  Unfortunately, it would probably not be enough to even finish off the group that should be arriving in about a minute at their current pace, let alone the six more that would be arriving a few minutes after that.   Lucretia hated to admit it, but she legitimately might have to bail here if she didn't want to get killed.  She gathered up some of the stronger alcohols and shoved them in her pockets.  They'd probably come in handy later.

"I can talk like this because I have magic like you do, but my magic won't hurt the creatures.  Yours will, my magic let me know that.  The first group will be here in less than a minute.  If you are going to fight come here.  I am trying to make them come to this room, so sitting on the floor staring will not help."  She paused for a moment.  "Also, do you have any matches?"