Akira raises his head to take in his new surroundings. The scent is nice, the room is pristine and kept dust free. He stands up, hands in his jean pockets as he looks around. It seems almost like a dream; like when he finds himself in the Velvet Room. Except there are no signs of chains on his wrists or ankles. There's no man with a long nose sitting in the middle of the room, and the twin wardens are missing.
A courtroom.
His eyes narrow and a frown shows up on his face. Maybe its a slight change of cognition. Not quite a Palace, but not in Mementos. His fists clench in his pockets.
There is a woman standing at the bench, her eyes blindfolded, wrapped in a voluminous cloak. "I am Justice, who by our reckoning is the eleventh Arcana. I have taken on the personal name of Astræa, which you may use if you so choose. Welcome, Akira Kurusu, called Joker, to my conversation space."
The Eleventh Arcana. The frown tugs at his face again as he stays still. Arcana, like the ones that match people and Personas? Akira intends to ask about what this woman means until she pulls his name and codename out of apparently thin air.
!
"'Joker'?" His voice is calm, void of any surprise. After all, not too long ago he sat through an entire interrogation and was able to hide the identities of his teammates. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."
She inclines her head. "I suspected you might reply thus," she says. "Still, I bid you welcome. I have prepared for you a seat at the table and a beverage."
He reaches up and tugs at his bangs. A courtroom that welcomes the accused. It must be a horrible sense of irony. He takes a few steps towards the table and pulls a seat back from it. Before sitting down he looks back at her.
"None," she says. "At least, not in the way you are thinking. This is not punishment, Akira Kurusu. I have judged you fit my idiom and would charge you to uphold Justice."
None. It's clear by the narrowed gaze that Akira doesn't quite believe what she is saying. Having been judged by anothers standards to fit what their mold of "justice." She says she is the embodiment of justice, but, he doesn't quite believe her.
He slowly sits himself down in the chair. His bag hits the floor heavily next to him.
"What do you conceive as Justice?" she asks him in return. "I am all of it, both merciful and cruel. My kind are ideas given life. Did you and your friends not share a notion of Justice that drove you in your career as thieves?"
The questions make him smile. Just because his friends fought for "justice" doesn't mean that it is what this woman believes is "justice." Akechi... Sae... they both had their own ideas of what true "justice" was. It reminds him of the interrogation he had only weeks ago.
"You tell me." He says in return. "If you truly know my friends and I."
She leans against the bench, her expression (what can be seen of it) thoughtful.
"The Phantom Thieves of Heart chose their targets, except for two, from powerful men who made those below them suffer, but whose transgressions were ignored by the police and other authorities. By stealing their distorted desires, they were able to bring about a change of heart in their targets, getting them to confess their sins and turn themselves in to the authorities. Thus did untouchable men receive the consequences their transgressions deserve.
"I call this Justice. I know it to be Justice. I see one of my faces reflected in it. My faces are manifold, for there are many interpretations as to what Justice is. Yet, I can recognize myself."
It seems like omnipotent gods really do their research. His expression returns to his usual one of borderline boredom. So, she saw it as justice as well. Then again, people can say things all they want to get people on their sides. He certainly is guilty of manipulating Nijimura and even some of his closest Confidants to get what the Phantom Thieves needed at first. This could be the same thing.
"You think that I'll agree to what you see as justice in this place based off that." He tilts his head, almost as if he is pondering the notion. "Maybe this place doesn't need a phantom thief."
"I think your pursuit of your own personal form of justice makes you fitting to be my Chosen," she corrects gently. "I do not expect you to agree with all my aspects. That would be foolish--which is very much Orlea's idiom and not mine."
She shrugs. "If you do not wish to continue your career as a phantom thief, I will not force you to it."
Orlea? There's a name that sounds like it will be good to remember.
Despite her insistence, Astræa's point makes his eyes narrow again. It feels like just another adult telling him what to do. My Chosen. He didn't get a say in it. Now there is an expectation from her to uphold her principles. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. That all depends on what she thinks of his actions. When he decides that he will do. That doesn't mean he is going to agree to represent her though.
"Phantom Thieves can't operate without targets." Akira points out. Of course, he'd still decide if he'd actually take someone's heart, but that really isn't the point. "You want me to uphold your aspects but the only way I'd be able to do that effectively is by being a Phantom Thief. Do you have a request?"
"Not as of yet," she says. "Should I during my match, I will contact you. Otherwise, I expect you to use your own discretion in employing your thief's skills."
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A courtroom.
His eyes narrow and a frown shows up on his face. Maybe its a slight change of cognition. Not quite a Palace, but not in Mementos. His fists clench in his pockets.
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!
"'Joker'?" His voice is calm, void of any surprise. After all, not too long ago he sat through an entire interrogation and was able to hide the identities of his teammates. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."
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"What charges am I under?"
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He slowly sits himself down in the chair. His bag hits the floor heavily next to him.
"What justice?"
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"You tell me." He says in return. "If you truly know my friends and I."
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"The Phantom Thieves of Heart chose their targets, except for two, from powerful men who made those below them suffer, but whose transgressions were ignored by the police and other authorities. By stealing their distorted desires, they were able to bring about a change of heart in their targets, getting them to confess their sins and turn themselves in to the authorities. Thus did untouchable men receive the consequences their transgressions deserve.
"I call this Justice. I know it to be Justice. I see one of my faces reflected in it. My faces are manifold, for there are many interpretations as to what Justice is. Yet, I can recognize myself."
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"You think that I'll agree to what you see as justice in this place based off that." He tilts his head, almost as if he is pondering the notion. "Maybe this place doesn't need a phantom thief."
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She shrugs. "If you do not wish to continue your career as a phantom thief, I will not force you to it."
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Despite her insistence, Astræa's point makes his eyes narrow again. It feels like just another adult telling him what to do. My Chosen. He didn't get a say in it. Now there is an expectation from her to uphold her principles. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. That all depends on what she thinks of his actions. When he decides that he will do. That doesn't mean he is going to agree to represent her though.
"Phantom Thieves can't operate without targets." Akira points out. Of course, he'd still decide if he'd actually take someone's heart, but that really isn't the point. "You want me to uphold your aspects but the only way I'd be able to do that effectively is by being a Phantom Thief. Do you have a request?"
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Akira's eyes narrow slightly then. "You'll bring me back here?"
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