#infaith

hello, my name is jay, and i refuse to remain silent on my extensive history with this group any longer.

i have documented the abuse and slander i have faced at the hands of this group since november 2019, and have compiled MANY screenshots with an extensive document so that others can see what exactly i’ve been through and how it has impacted me.

jay / @adultdefy’s experiences (with screenshots)

TW: mentions of abuse, pedophilia, suicide, self harm and other unpleasant shit

pego has:

stolen/edited the artwork of other artists WITHOUT their permission (changing joker’s skintone in the artwork they use of him)

spread misinformation and unfounded accusations of racism, pedophilia, and other HEAVY issues about other blogs just because they don’t like them, effectively silencing and driving them off the site and RPC

encouraged hate and defamation of character by manipulating and omitting information in their numerous falsified callouts

sent anon hate to people just for fun and namedropped people with the intent of sending hate their way

excessively STALKED the blogs and socials of people who have them BLOCKED and have already politely asked to be left alone

PLEASE DO NOT message pego, lavenza, or the URLs of ANY of the people involved with this situation with NEGATIVE INTENT. i do not condone ANYONE attacking or being unkind to them. pego and his group’s actions have caused their victims a lot of mental and emotional pain, and sent a LOT of hate their victims' way, and I do not wish that on ANYONE, even them. THE PURPOSE of this post is to share my experiences, SPREAD AWARENESS, and to protect others in the rpc and inform them on exactly what this group of people are capable of. every claim made in this document is backed with SUBSTANTIAL evidence. 

pego just happens to be at the forefront of this particular instance, even though he prefers to do his manipulation behind the scenes and thinks that nobody knows the true extent of his involvement, so this callout is geared mostly toward him. their treatment of others and the way this group essentially claims ownership of the persona/SMT franchise and its characters as a whole through their actions, words, and policing of others is harmful to the community, and has impacted the mental health and emotional health of myself and other victims negatively.

even after all that has happened, i still wish pego and his group the best. i am wholly aware that pego and some of the others engaging in these harmful behaviors are minors, so i want to reiterate the point of not sending hate toward them,  and it is my hope that he and his group can learn from these toxic behaviors and improve as human beings. i urge anyone else with experiences to come forward as well. you all deserve to be heard.

i do not want pego or any of their friends to contact me any further, and i wish to remain blocked by them. you got to share your experiences, so i should be able to share mine. please just stay away from me. i will take legal action if your harassment of me continues.

you deserve to feel safe on your roleplay blogs.

but so do myself and other people. 

LITERALLY  WHO  ARE  YOU   ?

@infaith / meme

🎊 - What’s your zodiac sign?

Cancer sun, Sagi moon. At it hurts me.

💔 - What’s something you dislike about your muse?

 of course he knows - sumire’s wonderful. she’s so strong, and brave, and pretty. she’s so sweet. botan is all sharp edges, spikes and laughter marked by bitterness. she’s not fun to be around. she’s not a good friend. she’s like a knife : useful, but blunt and dangerous. and sumire doesn’t need that in their life, do they? 

 but - and here it is : botan is selfish. she doesn’t want to go. she doesn’t want to go . she wants to stay being sumire’s friend, she wants that, she wants it. she wants to be their best friend - more than that, but that’s - it’s not in the cards, is it ? 

 botan’s a passionate kind of person. she puts her heart into everything. she wears it on her sleeve. but she hides this - this is too much. this is something tender and personal. ( did you know, sumire, that botan dreams of red? not blood - a different, warmer, softer kind of red. a good kind of red. ) 

and she knows she’s not alone . it’s a gift, the friends that he has right now. he’s been alone for as long as he can remember, before he came here, to tokyo, to this big city with the phantom thieves and a purpose. of course they’ll always have his back. of course they will - that’s what friends do for each other. that’s what friends do for each other. friends friends friends friends friends. 

so botan’s a bad person : who relishes the touch of sumire’s gloved hand on her shoulder. she’s keeping secrets, has been all year, and they curl and whisper and coo inside her like a whisper. so botan’s a selfish person, who watches the way sumire’s mouth moves when she talks. there’s something deep and untouchable in her. he won’t touch it just yet. he won’t look at it just yet. ( he’ll keep putting it off, for now. ) 

 the metaverse is a dangerous place. it’s full of things that want you dead, full of awful people with sick hearts. it’s full of knives and blades and disgusting, awful things, but botan has never felt safer with sumire’s back pressed to her own. maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s because she’d feel safe anywhere, if sumire was there. 

 she remembers the awful, wonderful moment in maruki’s palace, when she saw who sumire really was for the first time and thought, oh... we’re the same. oh, they’re just like me. oh. 

                                          moments   pass   ,   lips   part   and   their   voice   utters   very   phrase   .   embarrassing    ,   embarrassing    !    “   ah   ,   are   you   okay   ,   sumi  -  chan    ?   i’m   sorry    ...    “    gentle   gaze   grows   frantic   ,   shifting   down   at   his   lap   ,   hands   balled   up   .    he   loves   them   ,   but    does   she   truly   believe   it   ?   he   wants   to   know    ,   after   confessions    ...     what   if   ,   what   if   she   would   tell    him   the   same   exact   thing   .         ‘     ɴᴏ     ,    ʏᴏᴜ    ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ    .    ‘          it    lingers   ,   correlate   with   the   rhythm   of   struck   heartstrings    .        ‘    ɴᴏ     ,    ʏᴏᴜ    ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ    .      ‘      ...    but   i   do   ,   i   love   you   ,   sumire    .        but   what   is    love    ...    he   knows   ,   and   doesn’t    .   a   desperate   attempt   ,   and   yet    he’s    still    with   them    ,   after    everything     .    i   love   you   .    .         lavender   gaze   only   flickers   back   to    theirs    ,   to   lean   slowly    ...    his   hand   ,   once   balled   and   concealed   ,   now   cups   their   face   .    gently   ,   gently    ...      bring   thumb   to   brush   ‘gainst   bitten   lips    ,    gently    ,   gently    ...     how   lovely     .    

Kairi understands the sentiment, much as she knows she’s not SUPPOSED TO.  Be sweet, Kairi, patient, Kairi, soft, Kairi.  Gentle.  YOU’RE A PRINCESS OF HEART.  YOU ARE LIGHT ITSELF.  So the kind of impulsive anger that would prompt swinging fists and gritting teeth ought to be utterly alien to her.

But ------ light casts shadows, as pretentious a way to explain it as that is.  (  naminé thinks herself the darkness kairi casts, but kairi wonders if she is not sun and shadow both.  )  For all that she is supposed to be patient and good, Kairi finds that these days, all she wants is to GIVE AND RECEIVE VIOLENCE.  All she wants is to bleed and bruise and scar and SURVIVE IT, to prove to them all that she can, that she doesn’t need to be coddled / protected / DIED FOR.

All she wants is to create corpses, and, for once, have that be sometimes she chooses ---- instead of a sacrifice someone better makes in offering to the USELESS PRINCESS.

So Kairi --- smiles, head tilting, teasing and sweet and understanding.  Always understanding.  Her heart aches in its infinite sympathy, light understanding and darkness curling around this familiar desire TO DO HARM.  (  empathy, turned sharp.  )  Kairi smiles, hand held out in easy offering.  There are scabs on the princess’s knuckles, where she tore them, striking walls.  Kairi doesn’t think that Sumire will question, the way everyone else does, WHY WOULD THE PRINCESS INDULGE IN VIOLENCE?

(  kairi’s heart understands, always, and they are alike in this.  sweet, and hurting, and empty.  and bright, light devouring.  )

 you know how to dance. here’s a small memory, tucked away: your mother putting on some old 90′s pop, and the two of you bouncing around the room, laughing and exhausted. here’s another one: when you had longer hair, much longer hair, and wild eyes. eight years old, looking for an exist in every room. they made you do ballet class, pressed your feet into hand-me-down shoes made out of cotton and leather. you only did a term of that, felt self consious and vulnerable. you taught yourself to waltz in your flat when you were sixteen, played music from your phone, held an imaginary partner by the hand and shoulder, and spun around. it turned out to be the right thing to do, when your father threw a celebratory ball only a few months later. you had felt just as alone holding someone as you had in your apartment. 

 so sumire wants to dance with you - and despite everything, you feel guilty. you hadn’t wanted to hurt them when they had insisted on standing against you in maruki’s palace, and you still don’t. the simple fact is this: you’re a walking blade, the sharp edges of your body made up of razors and knives. and it’s not that sumire isn’t strong. she’s strong. she’s one of the strongest people you know. you’re just worried. there’s always something else to worry about. 

 so sumire wants to dance with you. and you’ve never been able to be cruel to her, because they - well. you remember, you remember being fifteen, and in the metaverse, and the world seeming big and dangerous and wonderful. perhaps they don’t see it like that. perhaps they don’t see the wonder. you don’t anymore. revenge is a bitter and unfulfilled taste on your tongue. but if there is one thing this strange, and melancholy last breath of life has taught you, it’s that there is other things in life for you to life for, other than that. other than violence. like friends, you suppose. the people who gather around you despite the fact that you’re made from blood and scalpels and barbed wire, and have the tenacity and bravery to hold you close, despite the wounds you carve into their skin with your claws. this bittersweet little second chance : you’re going to be dead soon, but it’s okay. if this had never happened, you and sumire would have never become friends, after all.

and this is why you take their hand, place your hand on their shoulder, and take their hand in your own. enough self pity, enough wallowing in your own pain, and enough terror at the concept of dying unfulfilled: you have a dear friend to dance with, to no music at all, and to treasure until the beast, the walking weapon called goro akechi becomes no more.