(no subject)

[evowhisperer]

  

-----

"Stand aside, please, I'm a doctor!"

 

Chaos. Pure, grainy, cheaply recorded chaos. The cellphone trembles violently with its owner's hands, and frightened shouting in Spanish from all around threatens to drown out the wails of a child. The dirty sidewalk is no place to treat the wounded.

 

The seven people bleeding out on the ground may not be alive to care, soon. The child screaming at a young couple's side is unhurt, but rightfully frightened.

 

Several someones pass in front of the camera. The owner moves to the side, and a loud male voice blares out, 'Are they alright? Are they alright?' when no one answers. The owner continues to move, and a frilly sleeve is pushed out of the way.

 

There's a man in a white labcoat kneeling over one of the bodies, pressing a cloth flat against a puddle of red.

 

'Hey, are they going to survive?'  the phone owner repeats. The doctor snags the cuff of someone standing too close, and orders them to keep pressing down. They step forward with shaking hands and kneel also, and soon the doctor stands and moves on.

 

Someone's voice is rising and falling hysterically. There's shouting about police, and an ambulance. The camera turns to look, but it doesn't seem that either have arrived, and when it looks back several people have begun to grab shirts from the store's open sidewalk display, following the doctor's example. 

 

The doctor is wearing a large woman's hat with a tag sticking out of it, now, conspicuously snatched from a knocked-over shelf. He's facing a direction that would normally let the camera see his profile, but the hat is big enough to hide all but his neck. He slows as he reaches a body that stares vacantly away--it's not the first he would've reached, but it is the first the camera has seen--and moves on.

 

Finally, there's the body that no one seems ready to approach, curled up and with its back to the crowd. Broken glass litters the ground around it, and when the doctor pushes it onto its back, he kicks a gun further out of reach.

 

Someone passes in front of the camera. "Hey..." The owner complains. No response, and the owner moves around. "Hey, why's he helping that fucker when there's people here who need help?"

 

The doctor's back is to the camera. It's impossible to see what he's doing until he glances towards the crowd, loops the hat's strap tightly around his jaw, and starts CPR.

 

No one stops or helps him. The camera continues to watch, eventually panning over the wounded, and the unhurt victims still milling around. Someone shouts about the police again, and more people are kneeling over the wounded victim's bodies, pressing down more cloth. The child has climbed into a sitting woman's lap, face buried in her hair.

One of makeshift medics calls out to the doctor tearfully, but they are ignored.

 

There's an outcry. The camera snaps back to the doctor, who's lifting his head from the shooter's chest, pushing down arms that have begun to move sluggishly. More shouting, with more than a couple of screams. The crowd is starting to shuffle back, and the doctor throws up a blood-soaked hand, shouting urgent assurances. The camera glimpses part of his face, and he's young, and very clearly aware of the new dangers--both from revived shooter, and the crowd.

 

"He's not armed!" Triple checking. The doctor kneels on his wrist, shifting the man to check underneath. Quadruple checking. "He has no more weapons! He's unconscious!"

 

The shooter's eyes are glazed but open, and the confusion in the crowd eddies and swirls. Before anyone can do anything, there's armed men in uniforms of the law shoving through the crowd, taking control of the situation. The crowd's din reaches a new high, and the man with the camera is forced back. It becomes impossible to see anything else, as people move back and shake the camera every which way.

 

There's only a glimpse left of the doctor left in the clip, and it's from one last ditch effort. The phone gets held high in the air, and it shows a white coat turned to one of the uniforms, hands forward, bloody, and earnestly reassuring.

 

The clip cuts out.

 

Comments

[evowhisperer]

"Does this mean that there are no other scientists at all on this team?"

It's enough to make him stop eating in surprise, chopsticks held near the food without scooping more. The idea of working completely without an extra pair of prying eyes is a pleasant one, but it's one he hasn't ever dealt with before in his life. Supervising professors, peers, parents, family friends, jealous coworkers... It's independence and responsibility at its highest.

Interesting, if any of it's real.

"Well, as we learn more about how Kira does this, it should hopefully help you all narrow down your investigation several times over. After all, right now all I've heard that you all know is that Kira has two requirements for killing, and not much else."

[dead_black_eyes]

"That will not be a problem," the oldest man in the room says in his strong, rich voice. "While there are no scientists by name on the team, I guarantee you'll have no shortage of insight and assistance."

Comprehension and slight awe dawns on Mastuda and Soichiro's faces, but the both school it quickly into agreement. "Yeah, come to think of it I'm not surprised..." Mastuda mumbles. "That he could do that, too..."

Aizawa reaches into his coat pocket for a carton of cigarettes, excusing himself to the balcony where he lights up a smoke. Mogi watches him go over his shoulder, and the sleeping man moves suddenly in his sleep, limbs jerking before he rolls over and curls on his side like a child.

"The theory is that Kira needs a name and a face to kill," Soichiro says softly. "And also that the second Kira, who has just emerged and made himself known, needs only a face."

[evowhisperer]

"Only a face?" His eyes sharpen as his mind chews over this information with sharp little teeth, hungry for even the slightest morsel. The chopsticks are still held in one hand, but the actual food they're over has been abandoned on its plate, forgotten.

"Hmm," he says softly. "That's very interesting... It could mean many things, including that whoever has created these Kiras is improving their technique. It could also mean that Kira as an entity needs neither face nor names to kill, and that we've been sent on a wild goosechase this entire time."

[dead_black_eyes]

Mogi, Soichiro, and Matuda all look a little uncomfortable with the speculation.

"Y-yeah, maybe," Matsuda offers with a tense but cheerful half-smile. "Honestly though, this isn't really the time to be discussing it in this much detail... right, Chief?" he glances back at Soichiro again.

"Yes, it's... probably best to wait," Soichiro says reluctantly, eyes briefly flickering to the sleeping young man. "Case discussions should occur when everyone is present, accounted-for, and conscious."

"Isn't everything recorded, anyway?" Mogi asks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Yes, but contributing to a conversation that happened hours ago simply isn't possible."

Though the other task force members are talking about dancing around an entire conversation topic, rousing the sleeping man never comes up, even after Aizawa has finished his cigarette and returned.

[evowhisperer]

"... Alright..."

That's also interesting, and not in a way Cesar's going to observe out loud. He catches Soichiro's glance. This time, he doesn't follow it, simply looking from detective to detective.

It's a strange group dynamic, and he's turning it over in his mind. Everyone here answers to L. The young man in the corner is probably a direct line to speaking with L, and even basic discussion of old details with new perspectives is avoided. Cesar knows that as one of the only scientists there, any opinion he gives probably carries more weight than he would have thought around peers in his field. Have they already reached this level of formality already?

He makes it through a large portion of his meal before he speaks again, holding a portion of rice.

"Who are else are we waiting for, now?"

[dead_black_eyes]

While Cesar eats, everyone else is relatively silent. The old British gentleman busies himself with going to one of the suite's bedrooms (which the youth conspicuously did not retreat to before falling asleep) and returning with a blanket, which he drapes over his angular form and tucks around the bony contours of his curled body.

It's a very strange dynamic, and everyone present, aside from Cesar, is too accustomed to it by now to see it that way.

Soichiro is the one who speaks. "For Ryuzaki," he answers solemnly. "Finish your meal and try to relax, for now. I know your impulse is to jump right in, but... soon, you'll come to realize the kind of schedule we keep and how easy it is to feel burned-out."

"Don't worry," Aizawa adds, an edge to his voice. "He never sleeps for very long, when he does sleep. Enjoy this time while you can," he adds in an undertone, when the old man has left the room to fetch a pillow.

[evowhisperer]

Caesar's eyebrows float up in surprise, but he nods, continuing to eat. He can remember the toll that weeks of strain can take, of arguments and secrets and the overpowering weight of millions of dollars and possibly even human lives--no, he's not eager to get back into this pattern, even with such smaller stakes.

He's almost done with his food when he lifts his head for another question.

"Ah--may I have my cellphone, please? And the rest of my stuff, if it's anywhere close?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Yes, of course..." Mogi answers, standing and bowing shallowly in apology. "We're all just wiped out, sorry about that." He looks to Soichiro, who nods, and Mogi stands to fetch them.

"If you have to alert anyone and tell them you're all right, you may do so... but do not tell them your location or who you're working with," Soichiro says as Mogi hands Cesar a plastic bag containing the items.

[evowhisperer]

"Mm, thank you," Cesar says, abandoning his food to the side and reaching for the bag.

It has everything he'd had on him when he'd been captured. Wallet, pen, key--phone. He reaches for this first and thumbs its screen on, and is somewhat relieved to see that there's no errors or warnings of failed attempts at entry. Does this mean they didn't try, or that they were good at covering their tracks?

He enters a password and his shoulders relax, and he makes a note to himself with a few keywords that he's thought of in the last few minutes. There's a wi-fi network. Does he think the information on his phone would be safe while connected to it?

He turns the screen off and sets it aside, reaching for the rest of the bag's contents. He puts everything somewhere or other on his person, and never once does he really make any effort to actually call anyone. Who is there to call? Everyone he knows is gone, or too superficial an acquaintance to care about.

[dead_black_eyes]

While Cesar's engrossed in the contents of the bag, the other detectives speak to one another in low voices, engaging in conversation that has nothing to do with the scientist, but must be less awkward than total observant silence. It probably makes Cesar feel like he isn't being watched any longer, at least not so intently.

As the man is slipping his various personal items into his pockets, there's an abrupt, monotonous voice speaking very suddenly, very close to his ear.

"You're really not going to make any calls? I thought for sure you'd have someone you'd want to inform of your whereabouts... even if your contact list doesn't suggest as much."

The investigator "Ryuzaki" is no longer sleeping, and is apparently quite stealthy when he wants to be.

[evowhisperer]

Caesar jumps, and the key card in his hand flies forward just enough to clip the coffee table on its way down. When did that man get there? When did he get so close?

Worse yet... "Contact list?" He picks the card up. "What would you know about my contacts?"

Any sympathy and points that the man might've earned by reminding Caesar of Rex are officially gone. This is invasive. Interestingly enough, it's also getting more of an overtly negative reaction from him than being stripped and bound before a camera: he's frowning at the man, and his tone is colored with disapproval. It makes sense: he's not about to be tortured right now. There's no one to placate, or even impress.

[dead_black_eyes]

He makes no move, doesn't flinch when the card key flies out of Caesar's hand... until it's just a fraction of a second too late for it to actually be reflexive. It's disturbingly conscious, and there's a quick, twitchy half-smile in apology.

"We've met," he says in a blank monotone, unnecessarily. "And as I've already said, nothing useful..."

The other detectives are, again, immersing themselves in their own quiet conversation. No one seems to want to pay close attention to this overtly, or cut in, even if frequent clandestine glances make their way in the two young men's direction.

[evowhisperer]

The man's surprise feels like a subtle form of mockery. Not one that's overt enough to be a direct insult, but something that's meant to tease at edges, and it grates on nerves that are already trying to fray. Caesar holds back a shallow sigh: If this agent has seen Caesar's contact list, what else did he go into? If he hadn't, then why would he be saying all of this? Is it a bluff?

"Ah, yes." Play it calm, Salazar. He can't know, or he'd have far more questions than 'don't you have anyone to call?' "I realize that I'm both under suspicion and entering an environment with different privacy policies, but I must insist that you respect the boundaries of my personal files. There's copyright laws in effect, and also a great deal of sensitive history there."

Boundaries. Can he establish them? He's about to find out.

[dead_black_eyes]

Whatever the motivation is behind the forced reaction, no one could possibly mistake it for being genuine, and the effect is something that smacks of insincerity. That might or might not be deliberate and malicious; truly, it's actually very hard to tell much about this particular operative, aside from the fact that he sticks out among the exhausted and straight-laced Japanese detectives, and seems to be indulged more than anyone has an inherent right.

He bobs his head frenetically in a series of movements that are something like nodding. "Yes, of course. Naturally."

It's said with the breeziness of someone who can give a shallow, placating agreement to shut up some righteous indignance, but has no real intention of following through.

There's some uneasiness among the other detectives by this point that's difficult to ignore. Soichiro stands and is immediately at the side of the much younger man. "I think there should be a proper introduction. Mr. Salazar, this is Ryuzaki who works with us under L. He's tasked with espionage and intelligence gathering and is an invaluable member of the team."

It sounds like he's going overboard, trying to upsell an abrasive and nasty product, and the young man's dark eyes glint as he glances sideways at Soichiro. "Why, thank you, Mr. Yagami," he says smoothly, before turning his attention back to Caesar.

"You've eaten? Are you full? I have other questions for you the sooner we can get them out of the way, the better."

"Ryuzaki, I think he's tired..." Soichiro attempts to cut in.

[evowhisperer]

"It's quite alright, Mr. Soichiro. Ryuzaki is welcome to ask me any of his questions, though I can't guarantee that I'll be able to answer all of them."

He'd been wrong to compare Ryuzaki to anyone he's ever met before. That's fine; he hadn't needed past experience to face down his personal scourges then, and he doesn't need it now. The composure he's had drilled into him wraps around him like a thick towel, and he straightens slightly, trying to look attentive but firm. This man... He definitely has some heavier pull in this group than was readily obvious. He's a spy. Does that mean he's not in the same category as the detectives? Could he be from some sort of team that had already been associated with L before the case? That would explain why he's still around when he sticks out like a jagged rock from a sandbar. This also means Cesar has to get on his good side, since he's not someone he can afford to avoid indefinitely.

Damn. Lab politics was a game he was good at by his fantastically invaluable skills, not through charisma. He'd gotten where he was by being brilliant, not by being loved, and not for the first time he wishes he were better at soothing the metaphorical wild lions in meeting rooms than he really is. Maybe if he were he could count on making friends with this guy, and feeling confident that the man wasn't actually some kind of raised knife looking for a target.

[dead_black_eyes]

Soichiro seems uncertain, as if he wants to warn Caesar that he's agreeing to something he doesn't know the extent of and might regret, but he simply clears his throat and nods, pushing his square-framed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I see, then I'll leave you to it." He exchanges glances with Ryuzaki and then nods as he retreats back to where the other detectives are sitting, tense and quiet.

Ryuzaki raises his hairless eyebrows, impressed by Caesar's straightening posture as he takes a peculiar seat in the chair across from him. He sits like a restless child or a frog, perched on the balls of his feet with his legs tucked under him in a tight crouch. It's difficult to take one assuming it seriously, and it takes a keen eye to notice, but the other detectives seem to still be struggling with it.

"So," he says abruptly, eyes wide and hollow in the room's palest face. "Kira wants to kill criminals, and you want to bring them back from the dead, but when you do, they're still living on borrowed time and expire relatively quickly. What are your thoughts on how to proceed with your research and improving this admittedly glaring flaw in your technique?"

[evowhisperer]

This... is far more in line with what he wants to talk about. He unfolds, just slightly.

"The cure was a temporary one, meant to restart his heart and keep him going long enough for his own body's health to take over. For whatever reason it didn't, and I would very much like to learn why this is the case."

"If you would like me to perfect it, there's a few things that would really help." There's a beat or so of silence: he's sorting how far he wants to push. "... Having access to the late Ricardo Imenez' body would allow me to see where exactly my last cure failed. I also need computing power. Significantly more than my laptop has, although I'll need that too."

[dead_black_eyes]

"Is that all?" Ryuzaki asks, beginning to chew in earnest at the calloused pad of his thumb. "That can be done. Watari," he calls to the old man, "please make arrangements to secure the cadaver of Ricardo Imenez, and well as a control subject of the same age, sex, and cause of death, minus the association with Kira. Also secure the required computers in addition t Mr. Salazar's laptop, OK?"

"Right," Watari replies, inclining his head. "Is there anything else, Ryuzaki? Mr. Salazar?"

[evowhisperer]

Caesar shakes his head. "That's everything for now."

'Is that all' indeed. First he has to see whether or not his resources are even capable of the simulations he needs. If not, what then? Will he push to try to update his workstation to a point where it can run even the simplest human chemistry design? What about building an interface between his computer and his nanites? Everything he needs is all wrapped up in a mothballed mobile lab somewhere in Argentina's country side, but Cesar can't bring himself to announce it's presence just yet. Calling on it would be a last resort, and he doesn't think they would be inclined to fish it out of its isolation anyway, no matter how useful.

He'll have to make due.

[dead_black_eyes]

There's something remarkably casual about the way Ryuzaki makes these requests, as if time, money and beaurocratic red tape are all no object. The old man who seems to obey his every beck and call is similarly laid-back about it.

"Wh- Ryuzaki," Matsuda says softly. "Are you really going to be bringing bodies back to the hotel room?"

"Don't be silly, Mr. Matsuda," Ryuzaki replies in his smooth monotone. "We'll be returning to the morgue, of course, once all the proper arrangements are made. Watari is taking care of them now. Caesar... may I call you Caesar?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head. "Considering we'll be working together on this, I'd feel more comfortable being on a first-name basis."

[evowhisperer]

Caesar doesn't seem to realize it's something he should be finding suspicious: he's had Providence to grease the wheels so long, and sat at such a high position that it only seems natural that this initiative can expect to flaunt whatever rules it wants. If anything the arrogance is reassuring.

He'll have his cadavers soon, and hopefully more answers. This sounds like a good deal to him.

"Certainly," he says out loud. "I suppose it's only fair, seeing how everyone calls you Ryuzaki." He gives the man a small, guarded smile.

[dead_black_eyes]

Ryuzaki cracks a slight, secretive smile that doesn't quite warm the cores of his dark eyes. If eyes are supposed to be the windows to the soul, his fall short, with a glassy quality that speaks more of mirrors than anything transparent or revealing. They're reflective, but seeing past them is a fool's hope.

"Very well. Caesar, did you want the lab at the morgue outfitted with your computers, or is that all right to have in our defacto headquarters? The kind of setup I think you'll need won't be easy to move quickly or repeatedly."

[evowhisperer]

It feels like looking into a reptilian EVO's eyes. Caesar wonders if this look was trained, or rose up intrinsically one day and was never discouraged.

He leans back in his seat, as gingerly as though it might give out from behind him. "Headquarters would be better. These particular examinations won't take long by comparison, and it would be good to keep that end of things as mobile as necessary."

[dead_black_eyes]

It's a stare that every other member of the task force, with the notable exception of Watari, has grown to avoid being on the receiving end of. Fortunately, Ryuzaki's attention is usually focused squarely on his computers or on some petulantly and indiosyncratically eaten snacks, but even being asked for a minor favor by those eyes is like being pulled apart on a dissection table.

"That can be done," he replies, going over the logistics in his head. "We do move hotels every several days, but hopefully there will be a more permanent solution ready very soon. For the examinations, I'm afraid you will need a member of the task force with you, but it could work to your favor. You can't very well conduct research in a vacuum."

[evowhisperer]

"That's quite alright. I'll work with whoever's assigned to me."

Not that he has much of a choice in the matter. Was that everything L had to ask? Cesar's relaxing further into his seat, but he hasn't let his guard down. Black Knight always preferred the long term game, and Caesar is too close to know whether L's plans have already been sprung, or if he's still wandering guilelessly towards them.