A clang of a key and a fairly good sized bird seems to have appeared in some weirdly spooky subway. It’s fairly calm now, but just around the corner she can see... 

“Kraw!”

As a mage of the court, Yenefer had to always keep on her toes. She knew that in trying times as now, with plausible war on the rise from the South, one always had to keep their wits about them. Not all were appreciative of those with magical talents. She had seen with her own eyes what a charming grin and sweet words could do -- especially to the heart.

Such left her feeling that living for herself was the only way she would be satisfied. Tonight, she found herself stretched upon a leather seat with one of her many tomes in which she took notes on while various candles lit her study. Many days were dull for her. It was her duty to advise men who were criminals in their own right to keep their place in position. As much as the duty made her sick to her stomach, it was far better than being sentenced to a kingdom that sought out those who had elven blood flowing through their veins.

“The price of luxury must be to bore me to death..” she muttered under her breath, words directed to no one in particular.

However, not long after saying so, she glanced up to notice the rapid flickering of her candles before they settled once more. This caught her attention, causing her to close her book and push away from her seat. There was..a disturbance in the air. She could feel the evaporating waves of chaos within a foreign magic at the tip of her fingers. It was similar to how she made her own portals between various lads.

But this..this was..different -- dangerous even. Something wasn’t right.

thanks for the follow back

names david, nice to meet you, howve you been

He had no intention of going to Mementos.

There's a small part of Akechi that feels almost bad about it. He had sent those messages known - no, relying - on the fact that Joker was desperate for the interaction, so setting him up like this only to stand him up...

Well, it certainly wouldn't feel good on Joker's end. Almost undoubtedly so the former leader of the Phantom Thieves would be left with a deep heartache, but as far as Akechi figured it would only be a temporary one. What does it matter if the hurt was just for a brief time - like a bandaid it would sting for a moment, tears would be shed, and then it would be over before anyone had time to really think about it.

He had given Joker a twenty minute head start before approaching Leblanc, slipping up to the cafe, picking the lock, and letting himself in with the casual air of a customer entering during a lazy afternoon. There was no need to be worried - he had no reason to think that Joker would leave his false invitation dangling, and the few people puttering around the alleyways of Yongen-Jaya didn't seem to pay him any mind. This wasn't something he left up to chance - over the first year of his returned life and the past two spent observing his rival, Akechi had more or less come to terms with the fact that the world seemed to simply not notice him anymore unless he made the effort to be noticed. As long as he didn't actively draw attention to himself, the former detective was sure that he would be able to break into the cafe without being bothered.

Any sense of nostalgia or longing for days gone was nipped in the bud as soon as he crossed the threshold - it felt any number of ways to be back inside of Leblanc's cozy interior, but none of those feelings would make a difference in whether or not he got the answers that he came here to get. The familiarity did however provide the positive of muscle memory, and even in the dimly lit near-dark of the cafe Akechi found that he barely had to pause for breath before he was up the stairs and into the attic - no, room - his room.

Not his own but his rival, the leader of the group that ended up taking him and his hard-fought image down, his ...

Friend?

It's only now, mid-stride on his way to sit on the edge of the bed, that he slows, footsteps drawing to a stuttered halt. For a brief moment Akechi this stands there, staring down at nothing in particular. His mind is stuck on the word while his eyes are left to pick at dust motes, slivers of gentle false-orange evening light, the texture of the blankets - is this really the same one? The light makes it hard to tell, but that really is just like Joker, heart so set on keeping things around for sentimentality's sake. He scoffs, a soft barely-there puff, before turning to face towards the mouth of the staircase and takes a seat.

The pistol is heavy in his hand, heart-red eyes now busy scanning the details of the weapon, admiring the way the light catches on the texture of the silencer.

So set on keeping things around. Friend.

The words curl up inside of his chest like brambles, this could be sorrow if he allowed it to be, but instead it just sears and sears and sears the inside of him until the only thing that keeps his shoulders from trembling is experience - this is simple anger, it was not yet hate. It was not yet hate because he still didn't have his answers, it was stuck as anger because Akechi did not know.

He didn't know why he was back. Would Joker really bring him back again after all they had spoken about? After he had fought so hard to be dead again, tore the reality from everyone else's hands for the sake of it not being true? Stupid, it had been stupid of Akechi to assume that it would be any different with him, trust had been such a novel idea, how quaint it is that Akechi had thought to trust that anyone else would truly hold their word, let alone keep a promise.

It isn't until a door creaks below that Akechi realizes that now he is trembling, something that stops with a drawn, calculated breath.         It couldn't be. There must be something else going on.                                                          Footsteps across the floor below.                                       There is more to this, Joker is going to give him answers.                                                                                        at the foot of the stairs.                                                                          And if he doesn't have the ones Akechi needs                                                                                                                         coming up them now Then he's about to win anyways.

That seems rude, Wrath