[A lot has changed since Maruki's intervention and the months that followed. Akechi had no choice but to lay low and assert his influence where he could. Even now, he knows that his time with Shido's men could be short lived. If they somehow find a way to revert Shido's cognition, he could be in some very severe trouble. He had only escaped that by chance—chance, and awakening somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo without remembering how he got there.
One of those changes is his discomfort with his power. Being able to induce control over someone's mind is only something that suits Maruki now, as far as he's concerned. It suits him because, at one point, it was the only way he ever felt powerful. Fighting against creatures like these, he can only see how fucking useless it truly is. What can he do, control them somewhere else? Temporarily? And how long until his power becomes futile in some way?
It sickens him. He doesn't even think to use his power.
What makes him feel more like himself is the power gained by shooting the creatures from the sky, one by one. They come down rapidly. He feels alive—knowing he has a use. A purpose. A reason that can be granted to him by his own skill and prowess.
Of course, that's a lot more ... rational than he sounds at the moment. Once he starts shooting, laughter bubbles low in his throat, taking hold of him. When the monsters come from behind, he grabs on to Joker's arm to drag him into the center, just as he turns back to take down the group heading their way.
There are so many of them. He'll get his fill before this is all over.]
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One of those changes is his discomfort with his power. Being able to induce control over someone's mind is only something that suits Maruki now, as far as he's concerned. It suits him because, at one point, it was the only way he ever felt powerful. Fighting against creatures like these, he can only see how fucking useless it truly is. What can he do, control them somewhere else? Temporarily? And how long until his power becomes futile in some way?
It sickens him. He doesn't even think to use his power.
What makes him feel more like himself is the power gained by shooting the creatures from the sky, one by one. They come down rapidly. He feels alive—knowing he has a use. A purpose. A reason that can be granted to him by his own skill and prowess.
Of course, that's a lot more ... rational than he sounds at the moment. Once he starts shooting, laughter bubbles low in his throat, taking hold of him. When the monsters come from behind, he grabs on to Joker's arm to drag him into the center, just as he turns back to take down the group heading their way.
There are so many of them. He'll get his fill before this is all over.]