"RYUUZAKI" (L - Death Note) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ryuuzaki) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2011-11-05 02:17 pm
ryuuzaki) wrote in towerofanimus2011-11-05 02:17 pm
Entry tags:
I. If something is neither an inside job, nor an outside job, is it a deus ex machina?
Characters: L and ???? (maybe you!)
Setting: Starting in 2-02, then moving elsewhere! At least a few hours prior to the appearance of the new intro letter.
Format: Starting with prose, but I'll match you.
Summary: A workaholic detective has been pulled away from his one true love--his job--and is about as pleased as you might expect. He needs something new to investigate: this tower will do, as will anyone he meets. Expect a weird combination of intense scrutiny (of you) and personal aloofness (for now).
Warnings: None, except for the prancing hooves of a million tiny blue-green deer. (It would be OK to skip to the last few paragraphs.)
Waking up quickly and getting out of bed without delay was a matter of safety, a matter of habit, a good practice for someone who tried to live anonymously and at least two steps ahead of any of the many people who might wish him harm. On the rare occasions when L chose to relax in bed before getting up, feeling the smooth sheets against his toes, it was by choice, because he had made a conscious decision to allow himself that luxury, to eat pain au chocolat and drink coffee and check the news from his laptop. But it was really extraordinarily uncommon; he preferred luxuries that didn't interfere with his work.
Today, he was aware that something was wrong even before he made the terrifying discovery that he couldn't move: nothing felt the way it had for the past three months. He'd become used to his wrist being free again, used to not sleeping a few feet away from a mass murderer, but that was new. The feel of the bed and pillows hadn't changed the entire time, until today, and the nagging sensation of a different atmosphere made him want to establish why as soon as possible.
It felt like an eternity before he could control his body again, although he understood that it couldn't have been long; it felt like forever because he didn't know when or if it would end. When it did, he took a deep, gasping breath and began to look all around. What he saw--the unfamiliar room, the beds and nightstands and trunks--caused him to sit up and fling the covers back. He noticed then that he wore a close-fitting white garment that covered most of his body, but left little to the imagination, and he paused for a moment to blink and shake his head at its inexplicability.
He noticed the letters on the nightstand, then. He reached for them and began to read, hoping they would shed some light on his situation.
Your world has been destroyed. I saved you. Let's all be happy here.
--Ridiculous, he thought, after he'd finished both letters.
Still, given the current state of affairs, he had to try to analyze the sequence of events that had ended in his waking up in this room. Drugs, at a minimum, but apart from the brief paralysis, he didn't feel drugged--just hungry, and like he could use a hot cup of coffee. There was no way of knowing how long he had been asleep, but whatever the substance had been, it hadn't left him groggy. What else?
The security measures at his headquarters were complex and rigorous enough that it would have been very hard for anyone to pull off this kind of abduction; the younger Yagami was still under L's thumb in a way that suggested this, at least, probably couldn't be his doing. Light lacked the resources, and while he had greater freedom now than he'd had since June, he had mostly been eschewing long periods of privacy. They would interfere with his attempts to appear to be invested in the Kira case as something other than the prime suspect. None of the officers--even those who had stormed off the case in irritation and returned to it after Higuchi's capture--would have tried something like this, and none would have been able to manage it if they had. A kidnapping from the outside was even less feasible, because they would have had to get both in and out. That left Watari, with his motivation most probably being to get L away from the Kira case before it was too late.
... Possible, but improbable. Why now, why today? Why not last week, or a month ago? We're making progress again now. He would try to convince me, not remove me from the case in the middle of the night, and he wouldn't try to fool me like this. Watari wouldn't place me in this kind of scenario... I'd be in a hotel, or a discreet, comfortable hospital. It would be private, at any rate. Apart from that, the letters indicate that there are other people here... refugees or victims, it's hard to say. The other furnishings in the room also indicate it. Is this... a game...?
He sat for a while on the edge of the bed, staring through the floor, elbows on his knees, hands at his temples, feeling too lost and troubled and perplexed to really be frightened. The letters sat discarded on the mattress beside him. If this is true... if it's true, and not just a complicated abduction of some other kind... then... Kira is irrelevant. They're all gone... Yagami, Amane, the task force. Perhaps the shinigami. Watari. The last name caused a twist of anxiety in his stomach, then a sharp pang of sadness that caused him to bite his lower lip.
This wasn't getting him anywhere: there wasn't even a way to confirm the claims in the letters without investigating them. They might be lies; they might not be. He had always tried to confront situations for what they were, rather than what he wished they could be, but in this case, lies would be better. He could work with lies, he could tease them apart until they fell into nothing. If the claims were true, there would be nothing to do but mourn and try to be grateful.
He stood with a deep, aggrieved sigh, then moved to the trunk at the foot of the bed, where he examined the contents with interest, then dismay. This is everything? No phone, no PowerBook, but some changes of clothes, a tea service, some other supplies--and most ominously, a pistol. He tilted his head, seemed to come to a decision, and buried the gun deep under the other items in the trunk. If the letters presented anything like the truth, it might be better for him not to walk around visibly armed just yet... anyway, he would rather not encourage situations where he would need that kind of weapon.
He took out a pair of boxer shorts, one of the long-sleeved white t-shirts, and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. After a moment's consideration, he also took out the shoes, a perfect recreation of the sneakers he owned but rarely wore. He might prefer to go barefoot, but in a completely unknown location, it would be better to be protected. It didn't take him long to change out of the white unitard and into clothes that felt more comfortable.
***Later***
Before and after he made his way to the cafeteria, L spent some time moving through various areas of the tower, scrutinizing everything around him: peering at the walls, tapping on them, standing on his tiptoes to examine the ceiling, frowning at the interior of the elevator and at the several terminals he came across, and so on. Every so often, he took a step back, looking perplexed and frustrated, and pressed the pad of his thumb against his lower lip.
Concentrating on these details enabled him to worry less, for the time being, about loss.
[OOC: His impulse to stir sugar into his porridge in the cafeteria probably didn't serve him well. That would have depended on whether or not someone warned him not to do it. I'm also assuming, here, that his roommates are out of the room already when he wakes up... I hope that's all right. Maybe one or more of them will pop back in!]
Setting: Starting in 2-02, then moving elsewhere! At least a few hours prior to the appearance of the new intro letter.
Format: Starting with prose, but I'll match you.
Summary: A workaholic detective has been pulled away from his one true love--his job--and is about as pleased as you might expect. He needs something new to investigate: this tower will do, as will anyone he meets. Expect a weird combination of intense scrutiny (of you) and personal aloofness (for now).
Warnings: None, except for the prancing hooves of a million tiny blue-green deer. (It would be OK to skip to the last few paragraphs.)
Waking up quickly and getting out of bed without delay was a matter of safety, a matter of habit, a good practice for someone who tried to live anonymously and at least two steps ahead of any of the many people who might wish him harm. On the rare occasions when L chose to relax in bed before getting up, feeling the smooth sheets against his toes, it was by choice, because he had made a conscious decision to allow himself that luxury, to eat pain au chocolat and drink coffee and check the news from his laptop. But it was really extraordinarily uncommon; he preferred luxuries that didn't interfere with his work.
Today, he was aware that something was wrong even before he made the terrifying discovery that he couldn't move: nothing felt the way it had for the past three months. He'd become used to his wrist being free again, used to not sleeping a few feet away from a mass murderer, but that was new. The feel of the bed and pillows hadn't changed the entire time, until today, and the nagging sensation of a different atmosphere made him want to establish why as soon as possible.
It felt like an eternity before he could control his body again, although he understood that it couldn't have been long; it felt like forever because he didn't know when or if it would end. When it did, he took a deep, gasping breath and began to look all around. What he saw--the unfamiliar room, the beds and nightstands and trunks--caused him to sit up and fling the covers back. He noticed then that he wore a close-fitting white garment that covered most of his body, but left little to the imagination, and he paused for a moment to blink and shake his head at its inexplicability.
He noticed the letters on the nightstand, then. He reached for them and began to read, hoping they would shed some light on his situation.
Your world has been destroyed. I saved you. Let's all be happy here.
--Ridiculous, he thought, after he'd finished both letters.
Still, given the current state of affairs, he had to try to analyze the sequence of events that had ended in his waking up in this room. Drugs, at a minimum, but apart from the brief paralysis, he didn't feel drugged--just hungry, and like he could use a hot cup of coffee. There was no way of knowing how long he had been asleep, but whatever the substance had been, it hadn't left him groggy. What else?
The security measures at his headquarters were complex and rigorous enough that it would have been very hard for anyone to pull off this kind of abduction; the younger Yagami was still under L's thumb in a way that suggested this, at least, probably couldn't be his doing. Light lacked the resources, and while he had greater freedom now than he'd had since June, he had mostly been eschewing long periods of privacy. They would interfere with his attempts to appear to be invested in the Kira case as something other than the prime suspect. None of the officers--even those who had stormed off the case in irritation and returned to it after Higuchi's capture--would have tried something like this, and none would have been able to manage it if they had. A kidnapping from the outside was even less feasible, because they would have had to get both in and out. That left Watari, with his motivation most probably being to get L away from the Kira case before it was too late.
... Possible, but improbable. Why now, why today? Why not last week, or a month ago? We're making progress again now. He would try to convince me, not remove me from the case in the middle of the night, and he wouldn't try to fool me like this. Watari wouldn't place me in this kind of scenario... I'd be in a hotel, or a discreet, comfortable hospital. It would be private, at any rate. Apart from that, the letters indicate that there are other people here... refugees or victims, it's hard to say. The other furnishings in the room also indicate it. Is this... a game...?
He sat for a while on the edge of the bed, staring through the floor, elbows on his knees, hands at his temples, feeling too lost and troubled and perplexed to really be frightened. The letters sat discarded on the mattress beside him. If this is true... if it's true, and not just a complicated abduction of some other kind... then... Kira is irrelevant. They're all gone... Yagami, Amane, the task force. Perhaps the shinigami. Watari. The last name caused a twist of anxiety in his stomach, then a sharp pang of sadness that caused him to bite his lower lip.
This wasn't getting him anywhere: there wasn't even a way to confirm the claims in the letters without investigating them. They might be lies; they might not be. He had always tried to confront situations for what they were, rather than what he wished they could be, but in this case, lies would be better. He could work with lies, he could tease them apart until they fell into nothing. If the claims were true, there would be nothing to do but mourn and try to be grateful.
He stood with a deep, aggrieved sigh, then moved to the trunk at the foot of the bed, where he examined the contents with interest, then dismay. This is everything? No phone, no PowerBook, but some changes of clothes, a tea service, some other supplies--and most ominously, a pistol. He tilted his head, seemed to come to a decision, and buried the gun deep under the other items in the trunk. If the letters presented anything like the truth, it might be better for him not to walk around visibly armed just yet... anyway, he would rather not encourage situations where he would need that kind of weapon.
He took out a pair of boxer shorts, one of the long-sleeved white t-shirts, and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. After a moment's consideration, he also took out the shoes, a perfect recreation of the sneakers he owned but rarely wore. He might prefer to go barefoot, but in a completely unknown location, it would be better to be protected. It didn't take him long to change out of the white unitard and into clothes that felt more comfortable.
***Later***
Before and after he made his way to the cafeteria, L spent some time moving through various areas of the tower, scrutinizing everything around him: peering at the walls, tapping on them, standing on his tiptoes to examine the ceiling, frowning at the interior of the elevator and at the several terminals he came across, and so on. Every so often, he took a step back, looking perplexed and frustrated, and pressed the pad of his thumb against his lower lip.
Concentrating on these details enabled him to worry less, for the time being, about loss.
[OOC: His impulse to stir sugar into his porridge in the cafeteria probably didn't serve him well. That would have depended on whether or not someone warned him not to do it. I'm also assuming, here, that his roommates are out of the room already when he wakes up... I hope that's all right. Maybe one or more of them will pop back in!]
I read all of this and I love you--Minato is nice enough to warn you, L. c:
You can probably hear bits of said music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5o2WVxbjU0) coming from his headphones, if you listen closely.
He has a whole stack of these papers, in fact, and appears to be taping said mini-guides on the walls. Hey, they had to get there SOMEHOW, y'know? The papers don't give as much information as the actual guide itself, but instead, there is an address to the entry through the terminals on them as well, for further, more in-depth info.
Upon spotting L, Minato (now very, VERY glad the paranoia has gone so he can be a decent person again) offers up a small smile in greeting. In short, he does his best not to spook L, hoping to be friendly.
social link social link]Hello. Did you just arrive? If you're headed to the cafeteria and you did just get here, be sure to eat the plain oatmeal. You'll get sick otherwise.
fffff I AM SO SORRY TO TAKE A YEAR TO REPLY TO THIS.
This is the first human he's seen, and as such, his immediate inclination is to suspect that he could be looking at his abductor. His next inclination is to dismiss that idea: this kid doesn't look like he could pull off anything of the sort, especially not involving costumes and set dressing as elaborate as this. Then again, Yagami has managed a secret life as Kira, but that wouldn't have required extraordinary resources, past the notebook.
The only way to begin to determine whether or not the kid is involved is to talk to him more. In that respect, L doesn't mind being pulled away from what he was doing; examining the drywall wasn't telling him much, anyway.
He taps his ear with the tip of one of his long fingers, indicating that the kid might want to turn the music down.]
"Arrive" isn't the word I would use for it, but yes.
[His voice comes out softer and more perturbed than he intends; he isn't certain of how to feel about his current situation, sliding between irritation, sadness, and a spiraling panic that's best addressed by focusing on finding answers.
His gaze slides down to the papers that the newcomer is carrying, then back up to the kid's face.]
Why oatmeal? [Porridge is never in the least appealing; without a great deal of brown sugar and at least a handful of berries or raisins, he's not even sure that he could stomach it.] ... One way or another, I'm sure you can understand that this is all hard to swallow. Do you work here?
actually that's okay because I backtag. a lot.
Mostly. ]
... Do I wo--ah, no, I was kidnapped like you. I've just been here for long enough to figure out how their rules work. People have gotten very ill from not eating the oatmeal their first day.
[ Right. Well. Silver eyes blink for a moment. L has his sympathy, and he really is saddened to know more people are stuck in this hellish place. He can only do what he can: warn them, offer what help he can, he supposes. ]
I can understand that, though. ... If it's any small consolation, I wouldn't believe our kidnappers.
no subject
But he knew he should, because it was the right thing to do. This man was not one of them though. Taiki would normally just nod politely and continue but the man was acting very strange, examining the ceiling like that.
"Is... sorry... is everything alright?"
no subject
The boy seemed to approach without purpose, and it was largely L's interest in their surroundings that seemed to draw his attention. L let his heels sink to the floor, then turned his dark gaze to the new arrival. A child... he really doesn't seem like much of a threat. Does he belong to someone...?
"No, I don't think it is. I've just woken up here today. Do you know who's responsible for this abduction?" It was the easiest way for him to frame the question, even if he questioned how any kind of mundane 'abduction' would have been accomplished. He was able to keep his tone indifferent, locking most of the emotions of the morning into a more guarded place.
no subject
no subject
"What kind of notes? How long have you been here?" He adjusted his tone to be gentler, a little more friendly; he didn't want to scare away a potential source of information.
Argh I did not get a notif for this! I am so sorry!
no subject
Hopefully he's less foolish than Light.
There's a slight tilt of his head toward the computers, then back toward L. "Are you unfamiliar with computer terminals?"
no subject
He turns his face to the speaker, intending to analyze everything he sees, but meeting with a surprise. The man who's talking to him is in what appears to be some kind of uniform with some armored components; in some ways, it reminds L of police riot gear, guards on the shins and upper arms. The right arm is shorter than it should be... some kind of accident? The face is obscured by a helmet.
His first impulse is to assume that the man has some official capacity here... but no, the uniform is tattered. L remembers the clean white jumpsuit he woke up in; the collar at his neck irritates him, and tugging at it has only caused discomfort, but it's also shiny and new. It doesn't seem like anyone on official business would go around looking as ragged as this man does. Also, the question suggests that the man doesn't know anything about L, which suggests that he's not one of the hypothetical abductors, either. It would be easy to lie about that, though... any of this might be a lie.
In spite of the way he's dressed, there's nothing about the man's demeanor or the quality of the interaction so far that suggests that he's an immediate threat; if the man wanted to attack L, he would probably already have done so. Instead, he seemed to be on the verge of offering assistance. Even if he were planning an attack, their precise location means that it would be difficult to get away, and L wonders if it was a mistake to leave his room unarmed when a weapon was provided... but he likes to present himself as harmless, in the hope that he'll be underestimated.
It's hard for him to gauge what the right route will be, or the potential costliness of mistakes. And if there's help on offer, he doesn't need it to use the computer, but he does need it in many other ways.
Given the lack of options at the moment, an attempt at a normal conversation seems like a good bet. "Not in the least. Is that kind of unfamiliarity common here?"
The answer won't tell him whether or not his new acquaintance is lying, but something like that should be easier for him to try to discern through a few exchanges, if he watches for the signs. They'll be harder to find if he can't see the man's face, though.
[OOC: One last edit to get on track! :) Once again, please poke me if I got something wrong. ]
no subject
"I would not call it common, but from things I have witnessed, there seems to be enough of it happening that the way you were staring would trigger the assumption." It's doubtful he would have helped with the computers - he was simply curious. Perhaps he might help in other ways, perhaps not. Being in the service of schemers hasn't done him much good in his time.
Finally got around to tagging you! Sorry for the delay.
"Let me guess," Nina said, as she approached him. It would almost have been like the opening of a joke, but there was no levity in her voice. "You just woke up here this morning, didn't you?"
no subject
Anyone he met might be one of the people responsible for his situation, whether what the letter on the nightstand had said was true or not. Still, regardless of what side she was on, he didn't have the impression that she was currently a threat. No one had seemed like one yet, and everything left him with the idea that the tower had been built with the idea of housing a relatively large number of occupants. The chance that she was another abductee was decent.
He let his hand fall to his side, then turned to her more fully.
"Yes." It didn't seem like there was any point to pretending like he'd been there longer; he might miss valuable information, and anyway, other residents could refute the idea, which would make him look untrustworthy. At this stage, that might cost him. If everything was true, or true enough, he would need allies.
"It's that obvious, Miss...?" He let his tone trail upward at the end of the sentence, hoping it would lead to her providing her name.
no subject
If he was new like he said (and really, she had no reason to doubt his words or her own instincts), he probably didn't have much information he could give her now. But maybe she could help him, somehow? It was in her nature to want to be of aid, and anyway, she couldn't see any reason to be suspicious of him. Anyone who looked lost probably as he did wasn't to blame for their predicament.
She forced herself to give him the warmest smile she could manage. "What's your name, by the way? And has anyone told you anything yet?" Part of her held out hope that maybe, just maybe, he would know something she didn't. This entire situation was so confusing and disorienting! Even if he didn't, though, she didn't see any point in telling him things he'd already heard.
no subject
"Please call me Ryuuzaki, Miss Fortner. I've spoken to a few people, but I have to admit that, under the circumstances, it's hard to know who to trust." He left the implication--Can I trust you?--hanging in the air. "In any case, it's better to have each person treat me as if they assume I know nothing, so that everyone doesn't leave out the same detail on the premise that someone else has already passed it along."
There was a slight shift in his tone, to something both more curious and more businesslike. "Where did you come from, before you were here?"