P5 Voicetest; Makoto Niijima, Ann Takamaki

[starswing]

1.) random scenario, take your pick!

2.) extreme fluff, for all of your marshmallow-y needs.

3.) The arcana are the means by which all is revealed-- or not, so wild card it up or just leave a blank comment with who you want in the subject and I'll work out something.

Comments

FOR MAKOTO...

[jokered]

[he might have pushed himself a wee bit too hard the last time they went into mementos.

it wasn't really intentional—he'd just expended a little too much energy as they approached the next barrier. wanting everyone else to conserve what they had left after taking out a couple of targets mishima had provided them with, it meant that akira took a bit much on his shoulders. the tactics shifted so that they were fighting conservatively; physical attacks, guarding, debuffs with futaba patching in buffs every so often. but that left joker handling a lot of the elemental spells. and even when he saw other people's energy getting low, he made sure they had some of the coffee he brought in a thermos for them all...

and neglected any for himself, because it was more important that they were prepared. his stamina was good, good enough to get them where they had to go. but by the time they left mementos, he was completely exhausted. even morgana didn't have to tell him that he should go to bed as soon as he walked in leblanc's door. it wasn't quite enough though—

he awoke at sunrise for school, wishing so desperately he could stay in bed. his head was foggy, face almost sallow, throat sore and nose somehow both stuffy and runnng all at once.

miserable.

colds are always miserable.

but he's not one to stop, even when he should. though he tries to not let it show to sojiro as he eats his breakfast (the curry does, at least, clear his sinuses briefly), but when he shuffles through shibuya station to get his transfer to aoyama-ichtome...

he's kind of like a zombie. and he's hoping, quietly and miserably that none of his friends run into him here, because he probably needs to conserve all is energy in pretending he's not feeling so terrible for being in class with ann.

(who's he kidding, he's going to nap in kawakami's class for sure.)

...he's standing at the platform, kind of spacing out enough that a train leaves and he's still... just standing there. it's a good thing the trains run fast and often, but he's definitely going to be a bit in another world, between sniffles and coughs as he waits for the next train.

whoops.]

ann

[paranorms]

[It's a shoot! There's nothing that unusual for them--models go to photoshoots, even models with Personas who occasionally have to use them to fight Demons and/or Shadows and save the world. Nothing special there (except everything's special).

Except.

Well.

Elly doesn't look all too pleased with the theme of this photoshoot. Her arms are crossed, brow furrowed a little and foot tapping as she eyes the sudden change in plans--

And truly, usually she'd be able to roll with it, but... going from a "heroines" themed shoot to a "damsel" themed shoot is a huge change, and Elly doesn't fancy herself to be a damsel at all, so while normally she'd be cheerfully bidding her new photoshoot companion a hello... right now, she's mostly just simmering a little, brows drawn together as she eyes the director of the shoot (who seems to be trying very hard to pretend he's not noticing her trying to bore holes into the back of his head).

... Hi Ann.]

and makoto

[messianic]

[i wrote one prompt you can write this one

I'M HELPING]

ANN, post 11/20 spoilers!!!

[jokered]

[he probably would have hid the worst of it forever, if he could.

that first day back had been brutal; everyone was ready to celebrate their victory, and akira had been too... in theory. in theory, part of him was still riding the high of what happened and how it went.

...but then there was the other part of him. the part that still felt the lingering effects of the drug. the part of him that tried to hide the bruises on his face and the cut near his mouth. the part of him that definitely had a couple of slightly cracked ribs and bruising to along with it. the part of him that felt the awful pain in his right leg when he put his weight on it, because that blow he took to it out of his own drugged defiance really was with intent to break.

so he tried to hide his winces when ryuji draped an arm around him. he tried to stand with his weight on his left leg instead, and he tried to keep his focus on ann and makoto as they chatted about what they did while they waited for his release. he kept his unfocused gaze shielded by the glare that reflected off his glasses, and when they (or rather, sojiro) ushered them to sit at the booth. he was quieter, more still; rather than his hands making idle motions, he just... sat, still tired, still sore, still in need of recovery.

but akira only tells half the story. he talks about the arrest, he talks about the obvious injuries he can't hide, he talks about how he worked things out with sae and opened those opportunities to complete their plan.

he doesn't tell them about the being drugged, his hazier memories, the way he was injured and what bad shape he's still in. he does everything in his power to try and hide that, though he doesn't exit the booth when he goes to see them off—

and when everyone in leblanc has exited, sans sojiro and morgana, there's tension that drains from him, knowing that he should probably go upstairs and rest, though he wants to help sojiro clean up and find some semblance of normalcy. but pushing himself to his feet is hard—so he moves slow, hardly expecting that anyone would stay back or re-enter leblanc for any reason at all.

he's the leader of the phantom thieves, but he's so dumb sometimes, especially in these moments of vulnerability.

(akira's probably in for a pretty rude awakening soon enough, isn't he?)]

I'LL LET YOU PICK

[bufudyne]

[It's no surprise Yusuke is hungry.

It's his default state of being: he really lives up to the starving artist stereotype, though he would gladly trade that in for something else. He sways a little as he walks in the station surrounded by the shops in the underground, but stops, staring intently toward what looks to be a crepe stand. Anything. Any kind of food will do.

Even though something bigger and more filling would be satisfying.

When he tugs at his pockets and turns them out empty, however, he frowns down at them accusingly, as though his money's just flown off somewhere. As opposed to him spending it on art supplies. He tugs again at the fabric as though some yen has slipped into the seams (it's happened before) but when nothing shows itself he sighs and folds his arms.

Ah, the human body and it's need for food... How inconvenient even though food is amazing.]