But his face closes. Based on what he's heard from Futaba herself, from Sojiro—Wakaba Isshiki doesn't sound like someone who would have had a Palace. But how can he tell? "I suppose there's no way for me to tell whether Wakaba Isshiki-san had a Palace. I mean, short of asking someone who saw it."
He empties the filter water away, sets more to boil, grits his teeth. Short of asking Ren, that is. His hand clenches into a fist as he stares down at the hotplate. "Futaba's Palace was separated into wings, effectively. In that case, each had to be traversed in order—there were messages we had to uncover, and so we couldn't proceed until we cleared each one, you see?
"Ren's Palace, though, appears to have multiple accessible wings. A large enough team could clear them simultaneously. Assuming they survived entering the main building, that is." And he switches the hotplate back on, with an annoyed little click.
"In all fairness, the Palace she formed was not by ordinary circumstances. It was a result of damage dealt to her by Maruki." Why it happened is something he still hasn't fully grasped. He'd meant to ask her before his arrival here, but now it's on hold.
Nonetheless, Crow watches and listens as Frog delivers his explanation. "So at the very least, we won't be gated or forced to go through them in a specific order. However, I take it that the enemies within said Palace are rather intimidating?"
And he stills again, halfway through tapping the grounds into the filter. That moment of terror as he landed on the Palace floor is written on his face. "Extremely."
Quickly, he forces his hands back into motion; the last of the grounds settle into the filter, and he sets the whole thing on the scale. His voice brightens, though not enough. "Of course, with you and the others there, I'm sure they won't pose any problem."
Damn it, he thinks, levelling the grounds and not meeting Crow's eye. He couldn't be more obviously not okay if he spelled it out in skywriting.
"If it's any consolation, I have a rather robust collection of Personas, many of whom lack any tangible weaknesses. Alice can eradicate anything that isn't immune to curse without any SP drain, Helel is an immensely devastating almighty user, and I've got a great deal of elemental coverage across my collection of Personas."
Crow continues to observe. The lack of eye contact is rather telling, but far be it from him to call attention to it. Some things really are better left unsaid.
"If Lancelot ever brings out an army of bears, I'll know I've truly crossed to the dark side," he murmurs to the hotplate, left momentarily with nothing to do but talk.
"What about Falcon? What's his position on all this?" Because based on the little Goro knows, he'd guess Falcon has strong opinions.
Ah, of course. A deep sigh escapes Crow, and he slumps over the bar. "Falcon doesn't trust me, and I can't exactly blame him. He is adamant that we tell Ren of the Palace and our intentions to help him and do not change his heart. Which is fine by me. I wouldn't want to force such a change upon him in the first place."
Yeah, Goro expected that. And who's going to look Ren in the face, and tell him what they plan? The idea turns his stomach; it tastes like acid. He'd almost rather face the police in Niijima's Palace.
Fortunately, the kettle begins to chatter on the hotplate; he lifts it for the bloom pour, resting one hand on the lid. "It's funny, you know. A crow and a frog. If the metaphor held, you should be eating me."
"I'm afraid that privilege is reserved for my boyfriend, in a manner of speaking." He smirks, lifting his chin and bracing himself for what's sure to be some sort of reaction.
It's not much of a reaction, but it certainly breaks the mood. Goro's eyes widen, and his hands stutter over the foaming coffee grounds as he turns pink. But then he just laughs, lifting the kettle expertly to cut off the first flow of water.
"Goodness me. I didn't quite think you'd go there." If he hadn't already been half-picturing Ren when he said that, he might have jumped.
"In all fairness, you walked right into it." Crow chuckles, pleased with the successful shift in mood. "It's rather ironic. When I first arrived here, I was incredibly repressed. Jokes of this nature were hardly in my wheelhouse."
"I'd hardly call myself repressed," he says, still pink at the thought of Ren. "Plus, you could hardly have opened that door if I hadn't erected it for you, hm?"
"Interesting phrasing." Heh. No doubt a deliberate double entendre. "But one would hope you aren't serpent levels of repressed. That was just embarrassing."
"Yes, I heard from your victim firsthand. About the serpent below the belt thing, I mean." Which brings them full circle, doesn't it?
He starts the final pour, with one eye on the scale; delicate, slow little spirals. "Futaba asked us to change her heart. She was aware of what was going on, part of the process. In the end, she faced her Shadow right there in her Palace and awakened. I don't believe we could have done it without her, which... may be instructive. I'm not sure.
"I've seen a little of Ren's distortion from the inside. I'm not sure if it would be constructive or not to tell him. Whether we could even protect him, when he inevitably insisted on joining the party."
"That's not unlike what transpired in the TV world. Facing ourselves in order to awaken our potential... Yu was an exception, but he obtained his power through Izanami, and while I did as well, my circumstances were... decidedly less stable, which I believe made all the difference."
Crow's eyes drift to the coffee, watching as Frog pours it oh so carefully.
"I believe honesty is the best approach. He deserves to know of our intentions. Even if he doesn't like it, it's better than doing so behind his back."
He laps some loose grounds from the edge of the filter, with the outermost circle. "On the other hand, if I were able to speak to him about these matters, you understand I would already have done so? I've tried. It's as if there's a wall there."
Spreading one hand a little as he lifts the kettle, his lip turns out ever so slightly. "A Palace wall. The wall of his distortion. The problem is that Ren is not rational. His distortion seems set in stone. He wants me to act—wants all of us to act, I think. To care enough to act.
"But he believes that we won't act in his interests—and certainly not in what he considers to be my best interests. He won't like it if I talk about going anywhere near his Palace. I'm certain of that."
He sets the kettle down on the cooling hotplate, with an air of finality.
"I wonder if showing him his Palace would spark anything, if only the exterior. Giving him a reality check, forcing him to see it with his own two eyes..."
But that presents a risk. Crow knows that it does. Even in the best scenario, the distortion remains.
"Stopping him from, for example, running inside would be trivial. The damage it would do if I attacked him, on the other hand...." Again, he spreads his hand.
"From what I see, the distortion is centred on feelings of—of unwantedness. He feels like an outsider, and he believes he deserves to be. That his true self is repellent. He tried so hard to make me see that, you know. To make me give up on him. Told me terrible things."
He stares miserably at the filtering coffee. "I'll never give up on him. I just don't know if I can make him believe me."
"He did the same to me." Drip, drip, drip... Crow watches as the coffee filters, as if doing so will provide some semblance of zen. "He refuses to accept the kindness of others at face value and that he doesn't have to mask for our benefit. I... well, without knowing what Magpie said to him to prompt his apology, it's rather daunting. I still have my doubts that it was a pleasant conversation."
"I don't know what Magpie said. And if he won't tell you, he certainly won't tell me." Quietly, he warms a cup. "But if it affected Ren deeply, it's not beyond possibility that we could find out.
"The Palace echoes things that people have said to him. I saw—several things that I had said myself. It was..." And he thinks about it, setting the cup on its little saucer. That feeling of having let Ren down, of having done something terribly wrong. "Disheartening," he concludes.
"So, in fact, it's possible we might need Magpie in there after all. Which Ren will fight." And Goro would have to support him. Talk about an enemy coming from inside the house.
"Yes. I believe it is pivotal for Magpie to witness the effect his words and actions have had. It's our only hope of at least bringing them both closure, because I certainly don't expect reconciliation."
It's too tall an order. Perhaps too idealistic. If possible, it would solve so much, yet that's half the reason he doesn't anticipate it. It's too perfect.
Goro snorts quietly. "If the reports I heard of that exchange were accurate, I'm almost surprised they haven't killed each other long ago." But he still doesn't believe Ren is a murderer by choice. Even less so, after seeing Shido's words spread across the Palace floors, tripping from his own feet.
He takes up the carafe, pouring gently, expertly, one-handed. The patter of the coffee into the cup is soothing, like running water, or rain falling; its fragrance is startling, tropical, almost like night-blooming flowers.
"I imagine there are conflicting feelings. They both remember being children and being friends, no less. The difference is that upon reverting to his older self, Magpie was comforted by Raven and thus had a stable foundation to stand on. I... can't say that Drake's circumstances were comparable."
But Crow didn't pry about the specifics when it happened, at least to his recollection. He was too busy trying and failing to reason until it became too much.
At least the coffee is almost ready now. The sounds and fragrances alone keep Crow from delving too deeply into despair.
His lips purse. Someone should have talked to Ren. Someone should have taken a hand with him, let him know he wasn't alone. But he turns the cup to face Crow, passes it gently across the counter, resisting the instinct to bow.
"Listen to me. You could have tried, and it would have made no difference. Ren is like... I don't know, a mirror. You can talk to him, and pry, and look for what he's hiding, and you'll get no deeper than he wants you to. Often not even that. Believe me, I've been trying almost all year."
"Thank you." He accepts the coffee, watching the steam rise. It may still be hot. Perhaps a few moments more to let it cool would be for the best? "I did try to reason him, but every time, he kept pushing back. It reached a point where I was unable to bear it any longer and told him that I needed to step back. Even now, I wonder if that made matters worse..."
He glances up quickly, struck by a memory—one of the phrases from Ren's Palace that was engraved on his mind as he searched for their meaning. "Then I'll give you some space," he recites, enunciating in a low tone.
"Was that you?" Such a nothing little reply, to be so deeply engraved on Ren's heart. And yet.
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He empties the filter water away, sets more to boil, grits his teeth. Short of asking Ren, that is. His hand clenches into a fist as he stares down at the hotplate. "Futaba's Palace was separated into wings, effectively. In that case, each had to be traversed in order—there were messages we had to uncover, and so we couldn't proceed until we cleared each one, you see?
"Ren's Palace, though, appears to have multiple accessible wings. A large enough team could clear them simultaneously. Assuming they survived entering the main building, that is." And he switches the hotplate back on, with an annoyed little click.
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Nonetheless, Crow watches and listens as Frog delivers his explanation. "So at the very least, we won't be gated or forced to go through them in a specific order. However, I take it that the enemies within said Palace are rather intimidating?"
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Quickly, he forces his hands back into motion; the last of the grounds settle into the filter, and he sets the whole thing on the scale. His voice brightens, though not enough. "Of course, with you and the others there, I'm sure they won't pose any problem."
Damn it, he thinks, levelling the grounds and not meeting Crow's eye. He couldn't be more obviously not okay if he spelled it out in skywriting.
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Crow continues to observe. The lack of eye contact is rather telling, but far be it from him to call attention to it. Some things really are better left unsaid.
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"What about Falcon? What's his position on all this?" Because based on the little Goro knows, he'd guess Falcon has strong opinions.
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Fortunately, the kettle begins to chatter on the hotplate; he lifts it for the bloom pour, resting one hand on the lid. "It's funny, you know. A crow and a frog. If the metaphor held, you should be eating me."
cw for lewd quip kjhjkh
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"Goodness me. I didn't quite think you'd go there." If he hadn't already been half-picturing Ren when he said that, he might have jumped.
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Take that, Crow.
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nsfw
He starts the final pour, with one eye on the scale; delicate, slow little spirals. "Futaba asked us to change her heart. She was aware of what was going on, part of the process. In the end, she faced her Shadow right there in her Palace and awakened. I don't believe we could have done it without her, which... may be instructive. I'm not sure.
"I've seen a little of Ren's distortion from the inside. I'm not sure if it would be constructive or not to tell him. Whether we could even protect him, when he inevitably insisted on joining the party."
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Crow's eyes drift to the coffee, watching as Frog pours it oh so carefully.
"I believe honesty is the best approach. He deserves to know of our intentions. Even if he doesn't like it, it's better than doing so behind his back."
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Spreading one hand a little as he lifts the kettle, his lip turns out ever so slightly. "A Palace wall. The wall of his distortion. The problem is that Ren is not rational. His distortion seems set in stone. He wants me to act—wants all of us to act, I think. To care enough to act.
"But he believes that we won't act in his interests—and certainly not in what he considers to be my best interests. He won't like it if I talk about going anywhere near his Palace. I'm certain of that."
He sets the kettle down on the cooling hotplate, with an air of finality.
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But that presents a risk. Crow knows that it does. Even in the best scenario, the distortion remains.
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"From what I see, the distortion is centred on feelings of—of unwantedness. He feels like an outsider, and he believes he deserves to be. That his true self is repellent. He tried so hard to make me see that, you know. To make me give up on him. Told me terrible things."
He stares miserably at the filtering coffee. "I'll never give up on him. I just don't know if I can make him believe me."
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"The Palace echoes things that people have said to him. I saw—several things that I had said myself. It was..." And he thinks about it, setting the cup on its little saucer. That feeling of having let Ren down, of having done something terribly wrong. "Disheartening," he concludes.
"So, in fact, it's possible we might need Magpie in there after all. Which Ren will fight." And Goro would have to support him. Talk about an enemy coming from inside the house.
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It's too tall an order. Perhaps too idealistic. If possible, it would solve so much, yet that's half the reason he doesn't anticipate it. It's too perfect.
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He takes up the carafe, pouring gently, expertly, one-handed. The patter of the coffee into the cup is soothing, like running water, or rain falling; its fragrance is startling, tropical, almost like night-blooming flowers.
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But Crow didn't pry about the specifics when it happened, at least to his recollection. He was too busy trying and failing to reason until it became too much.
At least the coffee is almost ready now. The sounds and fragrances alone keep Crow from delving too deeply into despair.
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"Listen to me. You could have tried, and it would have made no difference. Ren is like... I don't know, a mirror. You can talk to him, and pry, and look for what he's hiding, and you'll get no deeper than he wants you to. Often not even that. Believe me, I've been trying almost all year."
The coffee rests between them, like a gift.
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"Was that you?" Such a nothing little reply, to be so deeply engraved on Ren's heart. And yet.
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cw: alluded to sa
cw abuse
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cw: sa mention. kinda. the shido thing ren intercepted
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