2025-11-03: Dangerous Acclimations
- Log: Dangerous Acclimations
- Cast: Umie Akabane, So-young Park
- Where: Triple 7
- OOC Date: November 03, 2025
- IC Date: August 05, 2012
- Summary: So-young, on encountering Umie by chance at the Triple 7, is quickly kidnapped (read: readily agrees to) to go to a karaoke where the two of them decompress. With the both of them trying to recover from the Ferryman's attack, will they ever get to singing (spoiler, they do, at the very end)?
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
It may be truly shocking to those who know her ability to bam! her way into a location, but So-young Park is in fact not the sort of person to generally bother people who are at work. Maybe it's something to do with the way she seems to enjoy playing audience, the way she always pauses to let others say their piece when it might be suitably dramatic, or maybe she's just well aware of how important focus can be to a lot of roles.
Admittedly, she does draw a very clear line between 'a location' and 'a person', which is why she will freely wheel her way into the Cardboard Dragon even when Myunghon has customers there, crossing straight over to the living area without skipping a beat. But that's a shop with a clear delineation between its two halves, and not a convenience store where people have to work - gasp - retail!
(Yes, So-young has trouble slotting the Cardboard Dragon into 'retail'. If pressed, she can only wave her hands and genuinely insist it's 'more than that'.)
So ever since learning that Umie works at a fairly local Triple 7 she's purposefully left the place alone - until now, when she strides on into the store in the late evening hours with that aura of confidence pulled around her but also a mildly uncertain frown on her face. She is both somewhat concerned and somewhat curious about how Umie is holding up in the wake of the Hayashi business - the Conductor had rather expected Umie to be one of the more levelheaded people when it came to that whole mess, but had been extremely quickly proven wrong.
And maybe she's just looking to be a busybody so she doesn't spin her own wheels. Maybe it occured to her this quiet evening that 'her mother tried to kill her sibling' has become some kind of background reality that she's just... gotten used to as background noise at some point over the last few days. Even she has the presence of mind to understand that's not a healthy outlook and maybe she needs to get out of her own head and process things in a more candid fashion.
Which apparently includes her favorite brand of takeaway umeshu, a cute little half-size glass bottle she plucks from a shelf before gravitating towards the last of the available bento as she keeps an eye out.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
The problem with avoiding Umie at the Triple 7 on its Central Street location is that her hours are not exactly stable.
However, one thing has become clear: Umie's not taken a single late night shift since the Ferryman's personal visit, for reasons that seem largely overlooked by her co-workers. After all, to them, it was a 'gas explosion', or perhaps, a 'water line break', or something weird seemed to effect only Umie, and only at midnight, according to security cameras.
It's surreal, to come back into the one place you were beaten, and act like nothing had happened. Even the 'chemical fire' had some urgency to it, but even then...
But it's that way for everyone, isn't it? You still have to go to work the next day, and act like nothing had happened.
Even when you saw someone killed in front of you, and know you share the same powers they do.
'Welcome to the Triple 7! Please let us know if you need--" There's a yawn hidden in that greeting somewhere; Umie's at the end of her shift. So, it takes her a moment to realize who's come in, and, when she does--
The one person So-young had previously looked at as level-headed makes a surprised sound with her lips.
"....-kero?"
(oh right, that happened too)
Umie makes another sound, rubbing her face. ".... Sorry. Long shift. How're things, So-young-san?"
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"I have arrived to lord my power as a customer over you, by which I mean: I sorely needed a drink," she flatlines her voice for that last part, letting out a faint sigh as she places her basket in the hopper. "My brain is still catching up over the course of the last few days, to be quite honest, and it was being a little loud tonight. I am starting to wonder how used to much I might be acclimating to things I really shouldn't."
Yeah, just classic retail small talk, for sure! Luckily, it's quiet enough that she can just say that out loud, not that she'd really be stopped otherwise.
So-young has a habit of only shopping for things she needs with immediacy - drinks, snacks, quick food. Stationery she'll get elsewhere, not just because the Triple 7 only sells biros and plain paper rather than her specific needs. She missed out on the bento - someone snaffled the last of them away before she could get there, so she wavers as she looks towards the heating cabinet. "... two of the spicy chicken as well, please."
The 'kero' is enough for her to glance back sharply. There is no ridicule to be had here, rather a deep concern over the limits of cognitive influence. "I am never playing another fighting game as long as I live," So-young admits, "Not that I will really miss them, for that matter."
"... at least we did a net good this time around, I suppose." she adds, and the way her brow furrows slightly speaks volumes - the relief is obvious enough, as is the stubborn satisfaction of 'making' up for their earlier failure. But there's a level of uncertainty there as well, as if she's still rather dissatisfied with how it all fell out.
She doesn't exactly let it go, but she does a good attempt to bull straight past it instead as she folds her arms. This is far from her forte, but she pushes forwards anyway. "I could ask the same of you, though. Are you quite alright? I practically had to drag quite a few of you out of that warehouse, which was all the more notable given it was rapidly catching on fire."
... ... she... may have missed the news about this Triple 7's closure entirely.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
For better or worse, the Triple 7 closure happened not too long before the assassination itself, leaving it a footnote if not for the fact that it was the same person.
Which leads to Umie wondering along similar lines to So-young, in that respect.
'I am starting to wonder how used to much I might be acclimating to things I really shouldn't.'
"You get used to it," is Umie's yawn-stained reply, before she can have a chance to think of something much better (or more healthy) to say. "... To which I mean, 'laying low for a few days isn't a bad idea'. I know I had to borrow one of your sister's places for a bit." At least some of Umie's wry tone is there; she's nothing like the glassy-eyed young woman So-young had to remind to get out of a burning building.
.... which, thankfully, Umie did, disappearing into the night without a word.
Speaking of that: if So-young noticed anything on Umie's right wrist when she was attacking Hiroto in those final moments before his retreat (a period of time when So-young may have been more busy trying to get people out of the building), there's no way of checking now, as both wrists are covered with Umie's usual black thumbsleeves, which clash with the cheery pink and green work uniform.
"Two spicy chicken, coming right up." Grabbing a wax paper envelope, Umie takes out the tongs and grabs two pieces, sliding them in. "Need any sauce packets to go with that?"
So-young's respectful silence is appreciated in Umie's hour of need. (Of course, Umie's residual habits may be more to do with the fact that she's Umie, more than a worrying symptom of cognitive influence bleeding into a space it shouldn't be in, thankfully.) "... Fighting game?" Blink. "Oh, oh, a video game." She stifles a yawn, relaxing a little since it's So-young, rather than a customer she has to perform in front of. "Sorry, my parents were hard-asses growing up. Why play video games when you could study instead." She smirks. "They're lucky I never was into them in the first place."
Still, it was a net good, as So-young says. How is Umie holding up? Red brown eyes look at So-young tiredly, then squint slightly. "Better to pretend you didn't ask that question if you're wanting to leave this place without my cranky ass insisting on coming with you. My shift's almost over."
It's Umie's warning; she may have been cordial with Shinjiro, wanting to ensure the guy didn't take on the weight of her problems, but So-young's an adult. Lucky her.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
Even So-young's expression goes flat at that first 'you get used to it', because if she's already identified that it's a bad idea she's not really sure what to make of someone younger than her repeating it back to her. Really, why is everyone involved in this stuff so young and yet so busy getting their heads caved in? "My preferred method is playing it out as hard as I can, I admit. My poor violin's strings are going to give out at this rate."
She frowns thoughtfully to herself. "... I offered Myunghon use of my apartment should they need it to hole up in," she admits. "It isn't all that far, and at least I can be reasonably secure it's safe. It has a doorman and everything," she drawls, well aware that a coffin won't be much of a guard during the Dark Hour. "Though I admit I'm not quite ready to designate it as a Cardboard Dragon offshoot just yet. I think I'm a little too fond of my own private space."
The advantage of having So-young on your side is that, really, she's not at all up on any of this stuff. She didn't spot Umie's cool tattoo - but even if she did, it's very unlikely she would have thought anything of it given her lack of supernatural background and knowledge. In the moment, it was enough for her to attribute any and all bad vibes to the Ferryman and simply leave it at that.
"It's fine, thank you. I have chili flakes at home," the conductor is quick to reply, trying to pretend she's not going to stuff at least one of the pieces of chicken into her mouth the moment she gets out the door. So-young knows what's up. She is a connoisseur of 2am comfort food. She almost pauses as she takes the little chicken-shaped envelope, as Umie's note about what she was like draws a brief amused snort. "Ah," she notes with an undercurrent of both nostalgia and experience. "Well, it's never too late for a little rebellion."
Meeting that not-quite-a-glare, So-young lets out a faint chuckle. "Oh, no, what will I do with an upset cat on my hands? Besides, I'm the one out here buying convenience store booze in the early morning." What would Myunghon do in this situation? Probably the exact opposite of what So-young would. Well, that seems like an easy enough prospect. "Let's go yell our lungs out at kareoke or something."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
The sense of the Mark's 'off-ness' does need a little more time out in the open to really sink in, especially when someone is new.
Like a lot of things, some things take time to acquire: like that attitude Umie has. .... Which, again, like cognitive speech tics, some things come down to Umie being Umie.
"It's a critical tool for 'resetting'," Umie says, her eyelids rising up as she gives another impish grin. ".... That's a thing, in video games, right? Resetting a game?"
It's never too late for a little rebellion. "Well, fighting games will be a no, at least. I'll keep my rebellion to hair dye, loud nail polish, and not already being married some some nice wealthy politican." How... strangely specific.
What will So-young do with an upset cat on her hands?
"Careful, I'm nyan kidding~" Umie says, shutting one eye in a casual wink as she mimicks a cat paw with one hand.
'Let's go yell our lungs out at kareoke or something.' Opening that winking eye, Umie's lips curl devilishly. "You have yourself a deal."
***ONE RATHER QUICK TRANSITION TO UMIE BEING OFF FROM HER SHIFT LATER***
Oh, the thumbsleeves have stayed on, but Umie's casual outfit is the same as usual: a breezy white button-up blouse over a red sleeveless tee, grey shorts, and... sneakers. Rather nice ones, really
"I'm not singing, I'll be complaining instead," she says, when they get out of the store. "I have information on our 'Ferryman', after all. He paid me a visit a few days before that all went down." As if not realizing the troubling implications of that (no, Umie *does* realize them, but thankfully she's not a ghost) Umie tilts her head up at So-young. "So. You pick."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"'Resetting'... I suppose so. It may not be as good as healthily processing it all, but bashing out a tune for an hour may not help process anything, but it does let me blissfully ignore it a little longer," So-young beams with a rather straightforward smile. "Everyone has their vices." She's not about to comment on hair dye or nail polish, because she's very clearly wearing both - though of course, for her, it remains a very monochrome look.
She does pause at that last part, her eyebrows raising as she takes in the extremely specific anger. It's... not... unfamiliar. Not on her end, but from what Myunghon has told her about the stepfather she has never known, bits and pieces of a border that fills in the edges of the picture within. Wealthy politicians do seem to crawl out of the woodwork sometimes. "... are you absolutely sure?" she immediately asks, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. "You have checked all your wardrobes and under the carpet? The moment you start to get lobbyists, they can be very hard to weed out entirely."
N y a n. "I am begging you to do that in front of Myunghon so I can watch the reaction. Let's see if we can get a rumour started," she replies immediately, mirth in her eyes as she goes to wait outside.
* * *
True enough, the chicken did not last. So-young is almost daintily licking her fingers before using a napkin for the rest of it when Umie reaches her. She hasn't cracked open the bottle or anything else she bought, the rest of it bundled up inside her purse, because she quite likes the local kareoke parlours and she would rather not get thrown out for bringing her own drinks inside.
"Oh dear," the conductor replies, her eyebrows raising again. "In that case, I should probably warn you, I'm rather better at playing an instrument than I am singing. I'd like to think I can carry a tune, certainly, but not so much hold a steady note. Either way, it's fine," she adds, easily striding down a side street between two major roads - a familiar column of lights indicate a Kareokekan at the corner. "To be honest, sometimes I'll just book a room because I want a quick place to sit down and do some work for an hour."
She frowns. "... so you did know him," she notes. Again, there's no judgment here, nor recrimination. She's already seen enough people show up on different sides to know that the situation in Sumaru is, and probably will forever remain, messy as hell.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
That conspiratorial tone, as well as the specific (-ally amusing) questions cause Umie to snicker. "Yeah, the stink got so bad I had to move, practically."
So-young begs Umie to do that in from of Myunghon, possibly to get a rumor started. Umie makes a sour face (a mock Flehmen response?!). "Oh hell no, I'm not turning into a nekomata. Have you seen the stunts they've being doing since the whole 'vampire' rumor got passed around?"
* * *
"Music was never my forte either. Neither is it my Persona's." The latter is added with a nugget of wry humor in its tone, as well as a lower volume to keep it from being overheard by a chance curious eavesdropper.
Booking a room because you want a quick place to sit down and do some work for an hour? Umie supposes, in another life, she'd be the same. "That's fair." She'll have to remember that.
'... so you did know him.'
Umie shrugs. "... In a sense." Umie didn't expect any judgment or recrimination here, thankfully, given the 'relationship' consisted of two acts. Shiryuu would be a different story, at least, given how she's literally wearing the sneakers he gave her. At least Shiryuu made it clear that he wants to kick her ass; it's just that the messy state of her apartment ruined the mood. Ninjas are so overdramatic!
... there is a difference in these sneakers vs her cheap ones, though. If she hadn't promised herself to not be precious with them, she would have locked them away in a closet and then refused to ever wear them in case they got, gasp, scuffed from normal wear.
It's only when they get to their room and settle in that Umie, after taking a drink, says, "He came in just before the Dark Hour hit and beat me up as a 'warning'." She's quick to shrug again, as if heading off any concern So-young may have. "I didn't make things easy for him, but my hands were tied. There were people at either exit when the Dark Hour hit. It happens occasionally, but I never had to deal with it in a situation like *this*."
The reasons why, Umie will have to ensure she's quick to excuse; it should be easy enough to pick the finger at another source, or, heck, one that's likely another reason.
There's also the deeper reasons, as well as what connects the Ferryman and her, but that... she'll just have to glance over as well, despite being the one who wanted to tell _someone_ what happened.
"So yeah, that was not great when I saw him crashing in."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
That conspiratorial tone, as well as the specific (-ally amusing) questions cause Umie to snicker. "Yeah, the stink got so bad I had to move, practically."
So-young begs Umie to do that in from of Myunghon, possibly to get a rumor started. Umie makes a sour face (a mock Flehmen response?!). "Oh hell no, I'm not turning into a nekomata. Have you seen the stunts they've being doing since the whole 'vampire' rumor got passed around?"
* * *
"Music was never my forte either. Neither is it my Persona's." The latter is added with a nugget of wry humor in its tone, as well as a lower volume to keep it from being overheard by a chance curious eavesdropper.
Booking a room because you want a quick place to sit down and do some work for an hour? Umie supposes, in another life, she'd be the same. "That's fair." She'll have to remember that.
'... so you did know him.'
Umie shrugs. "... In a sense." Umie didn't expect any judgment or recrimination here, thankfully, given the 'relationship' consisted of two acts. Shiryuu would be a different story, at least, given how she's literally wearing the sneakers he gave her. At least Shiryuu made it clear that he wants to kick her ass; it's just that the messy state of her apartment ruined the mood. Ninjas are so overdramatic!
... there is a difference in these sneakers vs her cheap ones, though. If she hadn't promised herself to not be precious with them, she would have locked them away in a closet and then refused to ever wear them in case they got, gasp, scuffed from normal wear.
It's only when they get to their room and settle in that Umie, after taking a drink, says, "He came in just before the Dark Hour hit and beat me up as a 'warning'." She's quick to shrug again, as if heading off any concern So-young may have. "I didn't make things easy for him, but my hands were tied. There were people at either exit when the Dark Hour hit. It happens occasionally, but I never had to deal with it in a situation like *this*."
The reasons why, Umie will have to ensure she's quick to excuse; it should be easy enough to pick the finger at another source, or, heck, one that's likely another reason.
There's also the deeper reasons, as well as what connects the Ferryman and her, but that... she'll just have to glance over as well, despite being the one who wanted to tell _someone_ what happened.
"So yeah, that was not great when I saw him crashing in."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young still thinks Umie would make a pretty good nekomata. I mean, who wouldn't want to be one? (Not her, though, she'd definitely be a swan or probably a goose.
"No, I mean it!" So-young notes, having started to develop a second sense for when someone might be giving her the side-eye. "Have you ever been around Ahikabara on a summer Saturday? It is hot, sweaty, unpleasant, crowded and there are no benches in a five mile radius. Your choices to rest your feet become an arcade or a kareoke booth, and at least the latter has some air conditioning and will sell you cold drinks," So-young notes as she folds her arms as they walk.
So-young is also pretty terrible at recognizing what people wear and when that might change, unfortunately, but she does at least approve of them, and the rest of Umie's fit. It's worn much more comfortably than a Triple 7 Uniform - which is a completely obvious statement to make, but still perfectly encapsulates the way So-young prefers that people be free to be however they want to be.
At least So-young is covering the bill at her own insistence. It was her idea and all, and sure enough, the moment they get in the room So-young has thrown her bag easily on a seat and then has the AC remote in her hands. This is someone very used to doing this - but she pauses as Umie explains further what's been going on. "... that is one hell of a 'targeted warning'," she finally says after a moment, her brow drawn. "The fact that he had the knowledge and intent to plan that sort of scenario speaks volumes. I wasn't aware that preparations to move the pair were that far along at that point."
"Not to mention it seems incredibly audacious," she mutters as she sits down and flips rapidly through the song selector, aimlessly swiping as she rolls the situation over in her head. "He'd have been stuck himself, unless he wanted a body count on his hands as he left the store. Someone could have spotted it all the moment time reasserted itself."
... she has to pause, because she just said without irony 'the moment time reasserted itself'. Truly, getting used to far too many things.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"I mean, I believe you, I just... never thought about it." Umie thinks back to the 'nice', warm apartment that will greet her, because she couldn't stand paying more for A/C.
She's beginning to rethink that.
Umie, for the most part, sets her own small duffle bag down and plops herself next to it as So-young is already fiddling with the AC remote. "Whew... couldn't wait to get out of there. Some days the AC and the bright lights make me feel like I'm in an alien world." It's what made the Dark Hour so great.
Well, what used to make it great. Now, she wants nothing to do with being alone like that.
'I wasn't aware that preparations to move the pair were that far along at that point.' What So-young meant may have skipped past Umie, who is still set on thinking on how it relates to herself. "No, no, this had nothing to do with... them, at the warehouse." Her words become listless, her gaze hollow as she remembers those moments.
.... Umie's never seen someone die like that, in front of her.
She rubs her face, determined to move on in case it leaves the air open targetted questions into Umie's own attack, at least, the ones that Umie couldn't answer herself.
"I told him as such, but he answered that he didn't intend on any coffins being harmed. He kept to his promise, as well as to the unspoken one of not killing me."
He could have, but he didn't; the bandages and note were all the more chilling because of it, in the wake of what she's seen him do.
He could have killed her.
"I can't work in situations like that. There was no way to get out, unless i broke the glass, which would affect the coffins outside on the sidewalk."
He could have easily killed her.
When she blacked out, she may not have ever woken back up.
If he was a different sort of killer, he could have killed her because he didn't care whether or not he was 'on the clock'.
'You figured it out, Umie-chan~ I'm so proud of you!'
".... he only does what he's charged to do," Umie mutters, through hoarse lips. "He's either on the clock, until he's not..."
"He's only an assassin when he needs to be." It's not an excuse; the way Umie's cheeks go pale under the lighting shows a completely different reaction. "He gave me a roll of bandages and some money for treatment. .... There was no way to mistake his actions afterwards as running out of time."
She could have been murdered in cold blood.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
Glancing over, So-young tilts her head in a moment of understanding. "It's probably how stark the lights are," she agrees quickly, operating on sheer instinct. "Well, that and the consistent buzz that the bad ones make. The old music hall in my university was terrible for that, like a noise just at the edge of your brain making your teeth ache. All you need is for it to flicker on top and you might as well just go anywhere else."
The conductor is still, terribly slowly, processing the events of that day herself. She marks it with a moment of silence, letting out a faint sigh as she puts a hand to her face and drags it slowly down. "... I am trying to repeatedly remind myself that one dead body is better than two. But it is a terribly cold comfort," she admits. If she's holding up better than others, it's mostly out of a dogged stubbornness more than anything else - the refusal to let anything disrupt the things she loves doing, even if that means just pushing them straight down for a bit.
Something in Umie's reply catches at So-young's thoughts, and she's about to ask what exactly Umie was getting a warning for if it wasn't to do with Myunghon's business--
--but that is held back and almost forgotten, first by the story that Umie is laying out for her and then by the way the young woman very nearly collapses in on herself under the weight of her own words. So-young's brow flickers, and she glances up quickly, two beeps on the remote control dimming the lights to something less bright before making sure they aren't about to get blasted by spinning disco swirls.
She doesn't risk touching Umie directly, but does reach over to place one of the complimentary bottles of water onto the table in front of her, with hopefully enough of a 'thunk' to try cutting into her thoughts. She's not good at navigating situations like this subtly, but maybe 'subtle' doesn't really cut it here. "Do not let yourself justify it for him," she almost orders, low and stone-faced. "His goal is to make it feel like 'just business' so that he can tell himself that at night. It is extortion and assault."
"... maybe a shooting bar would have been better," she muses abruptly "Then you could pick him as the target. Ah well. Let's go with the classics instead, shall we? --fuck you!" the latter suddenly blasts around the little booth as So-young has raised the microphone up to her lips, the swear delivered like a whipcrack. "Your suit sucks! You look like a B-grade film villain!"
... alright, maybe this isn't the _most_ serious of advice sessions, past her first sentence. But you have to start somewhere.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"Yeah. It was worse in Sumaru City, when I worked there." She twirls the ice cubes in her glass. "Imagine a buzzing light, the Satomi Tadashi theme song, and a demon wanting a egg sando but not having legal tender to purchase it."
She finds the memory pleasant, still, as she grins down at her glass.
As Umie misunderstood So-young earlier, now the tables have turned, with So-young misunderstanding Umie. And why not, given how Umie's been holding back on all the information she has?
It's an outburst that So-young doesn't deserve.
"_It's not justification_," Umie snaps, her eyes going wide as sits straight up. If So-young didn't feel Umie's resonance before due to Umie's complusive level of shrouding abilities, she'd feel it now, as emotions disrupt that careful balance. "I could have been the one with the smashed in head--"
At again, Umie finds herself at an impasse. It would be natural, she thinks to herself, for someone to ask 'Why would the NWO send a person like Nakamura after Umie Akabane, a single person with a Persona, out of many? What would make her so special? Why the warning?
.... Because not only is her parents a part of the NWO, she personally was given the Mark. Because she knows who several faces are. Because she has shown herself to have a connection, no matter how distorted, with prophecies.
Umie's a loose end, and is only worth snipping off the moment she becomes too tangled in everything.
'And you can't say a word of this, to anyone, right?'
Because.
'Information is dangerous.'
Information is dangerous.
So-young's trying so hard to snap her out of it, Umie thinks. Go with it.
"... yeah." Just like that.
Umie snaps the microphone from So-young, if she's able, closing her eyes and bringing it to her lips.
"I'm not stopping!"
Oh, a little too forceful there. Lower the intensity.
"I'm... not going to be afraid." No, bring it up.
".... I'll take you seriously, next time."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young's eyebrows go up; she rocks backwards a little in surprise at both the outpouring of sudden emotion and the sudden swell of resonance, and for a moment she has a real, honest, and raw moment of thinking to herself: oh shit, was that too far? How the hell do other people do this? All I'd meant was--
Then she forcefully cuts that thought short at the same time as Umie cuts herself off, deciding to leave those thoughts for later as Umie grabs the microphone from her and watches the other woman belt out three quick promises. ... it's certainly a start as far as she's concerned. If nothing else, from her own point of view, focusing on 'next time' is always going to be better than getting stuck looking back.
"... well. Let me rephrase that," she says placidly as the echo fades away, having at least turned her thoughts over in her head a little. "Frankly, I do not really give a damn what his personal moral code might say. I only care about what the physical outcome in front of me is, and that's not something I will forgive him for any time soon. That is as far and as deep a level of thought as I'm willing to give him at present, because if you ask me I have every right to be a petulant ass about it."
That is some real circular logic at the end there, but maybe that's why she can sound so cocksure about it.
She lets the moment pass with that, and lets out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. Reaching for a lighter subject, she snorts. Even So-young can appreciate the idea of a demon trying to purchase something from a convenience store, but-- "No, hang on. When is Satomi Tadashi _not_ filled with demons? I've heard their jingle. Possession is the only way to explain it."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
A quick as an August storm, the resonance melds back into the veil of nothingness, acting as if it never existed in the first place.
"There's nothing you need to rephase, honestly." Umie looks over her shoulder at So-young, while taking a moment to run her hand through her bangs. She shakes her head. "... Because you didn't deserve that," she murmurs as her apology, her eyelids lowering.
And she means it, even if her explosion of anger was only a few minutes ago.
She's still angry, but the reins are back in her hands, and she's redirecting her course.
"There'll be more than him, besides," Umie delivers, with a sort of chilling assurance that she didn't exactly intend as those words left her mouth.
"It's mostly the realization that, he had done exactly what he said. The next time he's sent after me might be an escalation."
Time for a lie. "--because of my abilities," she adds as an answer to an unasked question, with a shrug and a smug, impish grin. "I'm just *that* gifted, but only in unusual ways. Makes me dangerous to have running around, you know~"
.... well, isn't that technically part of it, if just stretched a little? Umie thinks.
"It's not filled with demons when the area's not primed for supernatural activity. And also rush hour. Usually you'd just get them closer to the Dark Hour, when they think they have extra time to just be complete nuisances. Then there you are, the asshole with a Persona working the register, so they have to at least *pretend* to play the part of the patron--"
She's looking through the song playlist. _She's looking through the song playlist_.
".... No, that'd be way too on the nose... ah."
Umie grabs her drink (which is, pointedly, non-alcoholic) and drinks it down completely, then places it down with a definitive 'clink' on the table.
"Change of plans. I'm singing. You're singing." Umie's microphone turns on as the opening chords to 'Give Me!', by Kiria Kurono and Tsubasa Oribe, begin to play. "Let's be miserable at the same time."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young sort of accepts the apology - not with words, but with a light tilt of her head and a lopsided smile. "I mean, even if he told you next week's lottery numbers on top of it all, I would still be inclined to tell him to go fuck himself," she points out with a smirk.
So-young's eyebrows go up a little at the rather obvious lie, but this is the best time to pull a lie like that and the best person to target it towards - because right at this moment So-young is even less inclined to chase it than normal, actively preferring to play along with it instead. "Well, you do have the keys to the cigarette cabinet," she nods sagely.
"Oh, you are entirely on. Don't underestimate how willing I am to play the idiot when music is involved," So-young adds with a bright smirk as she gears up. "Dibs on Tsubasa."