(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]

What could L do? He could shoot the hostage, of course. It's a common mistake to think that Caesar's survival instincts are gone altogether, but they're certainly still present enough to tell him that his own life means absolutely nothing to those glacial eyes.

"The field should effectively scramble the signal. It will take a few minutes to an hour to built something short term, but it will work." Nevermind about the percentages of possible failure. Nevermind how much of this depends on what materials Headquarters has on hand. Caesar is good at getting results, and right now he'd promise anything he thought he could conceivably reach.

[dead_black_eyes]

He could, and one of the truly terrifying things about this particular detective is that he actually might. Caesar's likely already gathered from the Task Force's tenseness that whether they like it or not, this wiry, strange man who sits like a child and stands like someone aged and feeble calls the shots, and his word is absolute

...even if his whims and wants border on the utterly unreasonable and insane.

"What do you need for it? Watari will secure the proper materials, for the long term, since that is what we are working with, Caesar Salazar."

With a slight lurch, the car starts forward.

[evowhisperer]

Familiar parts lists light up parts of his mind and disappear just as quickly, like distant fireworks. What can he use for long term? What could he possibly ask for that local technology could do? Caesar's lips thin, and he frowns past L for a second or two.

Then, off the top of his head, he names a few parts. There's no requests for any specific brands, and the only kinds of features he asks for are relative, such as 'high speed', and 'durable'.

[dead_black_eyes]

The listed parts are met with silence from both L and Watari; clearly, the former trusts the latter to keep immaculate track of everything he's told. If for any reason he fails to, L is confident in his ability to confirm it later.

L is at his best when he is confident, which is a huge reason that this latest threat has unnerved him so much and made him so cantankerous.

"It'll be done. What would you do in my place, to deal with you?" He asks quietly. "A security breach, even by omission of information, is equal to an attempt on my life."

[evowhisperer]

Caesar wrinkles his forehead and 'hmm's, looking down and to the left. Ryuzaki might think of things this way, but Caesar has different standards: If a violent EVO escapes its restraints, was there any point on blaming it on the agent whose grip failed first? Circumstances could be uncontrollable. Layers of unknown were an established fact of life. It's naive of this man to think himself above that.

None of this is part of the game Caesar is clearly expected to play. "That's an unusual question," he comments, buying himself time. What would the Black Knight settle on in a case like this?

Black Knight couldn't afford to damage his mind. That didn't mean there wasn't plenty to do that would leave him completely untouched: She could cut his funding. She could put him in a cell, subjecting him to low-key torture that would chip away at his sanity. She could send troops that could drag Rex in and keep him hostage, drugged and vulnerable to malice. His skin crawls: she might even hurt him, just as a warning for next time.

He forces the thoughts back, swallowing.

"Constant supervision." A beat. How's that different from now? "Obvious supervision. No private living space. I would sleep in the main living area and deliver summaries of every step of work before and after. Tasteless food. Maybe high-density nutritional rations." He's picturing the wafer-thin granola bars that Providence agents keep for emergencies. Or worse yet, the nutritional pills.

What more? It doesn't seem like enough, not for a man who thinks his life has been threatened.

"... Establish a severe consequence for future transgressions. All of this with a defined ending time, to encourage positive behavior." Or in other words, a warning. Caesar is asking for a slap on the wrist, and a chance to gain his trust enough that the attention dies down again.

[dead_black_eyes]

L listens, eyes narrowing shrewdly as he considers what Cesar is positing. There's quite a lot he considers himself above; whether this is naive or foolish has never been proven otherwise to him, and the result is an arrogant, childish, prince-like attitude.

This is what the other task force members find exhausting and exasperating. The man's brilliance isn't the problem, it's most of the other aspects of an excruciatingly difficult personality.

He snorts loudly at the level of detail and discomfort Cesar speaks of. "Either you're an unapologetic masochist or you've gotten good at figuring out the way I think," he says, chewing his thumb thoughtfully. I like the sound of all of that... minus, of course, the tasteless food. That, I deem to be unnecessary."

[evowhisperer]

Caesar's eyebrows shoot up, but his shoulders relax. He's relatively safe. He's...

... facing an undetermined amount of time with all the inconveniences they just listed, undoubtedly made worse by this agent's abrasiveness. He's getting a headache just thinking about it, but at least he's not going back to his cell. Maybe it won't be as awful as he expects?

He nods in acknowledgement, not trusting himself to comment.

"How long should I expect this to last?"

A few days? Maybe a week.

[dead_black_eyes]

Not only does L realize that Caesar has drastically underestimated his ability to maintain a fixation, he knows how to shift his weight and balance and make the implied agreement work to his shameless, indefinite advantage. Why wouldn't he, when a man has just essentially signed himself up to be the prisoner of the world's greatest detective?

The question makes his mouth twist upward in a smirk.

"Why," he answers softly, "until we catch Kira, of course."

[evowhisperer]

Just like that, Caesar is feeling a lot less sympathetic.

"That could take weeks in time. Maybe months," he says slowly, as though Ryzaki might not be well aware of it. A week or two of these conditions, he can handle. Months? He'll become a machine, living for work and dreaming of it while he sleeps. It's not a state he's unfamiliar with, but is it really necessary?

No, Caesar thinks as he looks at the smirk, it's not. This is petty vengeance, and he'd feel more hope in bringing this up with L if the reality weren't sinking in: this agent is in charge. He could probably put Caesar in that pristine interrogation room, and no one would say a word.

This isn't Providence. They aren't fixing a blight on the world that Caesar directly helped cause. He owes them nothing but curiosity and a helping hand, and by all rights he should be able to stop whenever he wants.

[dead_black_eyes]

L has a way of not holding onto sympathy for very long, even if his childish mannerisms and wide, owlish eyes seem custom-made for getting it.

"Yes, it could," he says blithely, chewing at the pad of his thumb and glancing down at his lap as though Caesar has just pointed out that a side trip would be out of the way and inconvenient given the set schedule. "But that's just how dedicated I am to catching him, you must understand. I thought that you were dedicated, too, and then you got that phone call."

[evowhisperer]

"I am dedicated", Caesar says, thinking about the upcoming months stretched in front of him. He'll have to call on sleeping habits formed during his college days, and he'll have to not just gain Ryuzaki's trust with his summaries, but play a careful hand in bullshitting sensitive material out of view. Never once does it occur to him that he'll actually roll over and go along with the situation quietly: no Salazar has been successfully manipulated out of rebellion in his lifespan, and he's not about to break this record now.

... He can't just let this go. "Surely you must realize that this isn't sustainable long-term," he counters, brow twisting with annoyance. "I am very dedicated to solving the mystery that is Kira, but these conditions are going to become detrimental to the quality of my work."

[dead_black_eyes]

At the very least, Caesar can count on those sleeping habits being shared by one who is devoted beyond all other areas of his life, forgoing most other things a man in his twenties might have. The more time he spends with Ryuzaki... no, L, the more he'll see just how pure that dedication is. Driven snow doesn't quite come to mind; that would, unfortunately, be too wholesome and chaste an image for the gaunt, sleepless ghoul with its stunted bone structure sitting beside Caesar in the back seat of a limo.

"It's as sustainable as our wills," L answers with disarming ease. "Mine shows no signs of flagging, because I don't stop until I've solved my cases. No matter what the cost, no matter what circumstances drive me to do. No matter how long it takes, how many meals or hours of sleep I have to give up. They're trifles. The end result is what matters, and then the next one starts. That's my life. I would have it no other way, so it doesn't seem unfit to demand it of those working under me as well."

[evowhisperer]

Echoes of parts of his youth have come back to haunt him. Is this what his classmates felt when they were assigned to team projects? Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Caesar makes a mental note to send them apologies sometime.

Can he afford to fight this any more? It hasn't actually gone into active sleep or food deprivation, and once he reaches a critical exhaustion he'll have no trouble falling asleep anywhere at all. The threat of a cold empty room is still very present, and none of this means he can't argue again when his position is more stable.

"I understand," he says reluctantly.

[dead_black_eyes]

It's like watching a spider finally relax its hold on struggling prey. L's posture and demeanor get less bristly and tense, and he's offering a flippant shrug in response to that sorely won word of agreement.

"Yes, I thought you would eventually. You wouldn't be here if you were an idiot. Only Matsuda gets a pass for that, and I have to reconsider every day whether or not that should be the case."

It probably sounds like a strange thing to say; L seems to like asserting his authority and then attempting to talk to Caesar like a peer, almost within the same breath.

[evowhisperer]

Caesar simultaneously gets several different unflattering impressions of the man, but the image that stays with him is the contrast of the Black Knight's retreating back, head high and menace lingering after she's gone. Black Knight's reach was everywhere, and her menace unquestionable. This agent is like a puppy that's confused playing dead with submission. Is that how Ryuzaki expects this to be? Some sort of camaraderie with the one condition that Ryuzaki's word is law?

Caesar gives him a weak smile at the poor joke, forcing the barest laugh. Didn't he just narrowly escape imprisonment and torture? ... Forget it. There's some things that even implied threats can't force, and in this case it's Ryuzaki's sense of humor.

He coughs a little. "Ah. Matsuda is younger than the rest of the detectives, isn't he? Why is this?" Why is he on the team if he's useless?

[dead_black_eyes]

It's small wonder that L does so much of his communicating from behind a microphone and a computer screen. For all his terse authority, there's something deeply awkward and unnatural about the way he interacts with other human beings that goes beyond the scope of any possible act. One the layers complicating and deepening it are pulled away, the intelligence and arrogance give way to reveal someone who is a scrawny and potentially extremely lonely youth who, come to think of it, doesn't actually have a peer in this investigation.

The way he disparages Matsuda is only further proof of this; it is, after all, a bad joke in large part because it isn't one.

"Younger than all but one," L answers, sounding bored. "And only older than him by about.... almost a year, yes. That would be about right. Not that age matters; only ability matters. When ability fails, conviction is the next best thing, and he is committed to the cause. That can be said for him."

[evowhisperer]

... It wasn't even a joke, was it? Caesar lets the smile drop completely. He wasn't fooling anyone anyway.

"Conviction is very important," he says blandly. "One could almost say it ranks above ability, assuming common sense is a factor."

It's an idle comment, meant to keep conversation going until they arrive at their destination. Cesar's heart isn't into it: he'd thought he was going to be tortured only bare minutes ago, and he's still turning over ideas for a damping field schematic. There's things he could do with a little transmitter like that. If he left the leads open and made the signal-noise large enough, could he interfere with more than just his own nanites' field? Of course he could. The real question is, would he be able to do this without breaking this design...

[dead_black_eyes]

No, not even a little bit. Something about this one's sense of humor is stunted and strange, making it almost impossible to discern if jokes are jokes or otherwise. He fidgets, seeming impatient and frustrated with the blandness of Caesar's confirming answer.

"What do you think of him?" he asks bluntly. "Do you also think he's stupid? You talked to him. You must have had time to form an opinion."

[evowhisperer]

What, he's being asked to pass judgement on this? Cesar dredges more of his attention away from mental designs reluctantly, 'hmm'ing.

"He's very young," Cesar repeats. "Not as bright as you or I in our respective fields, probably. Hidden depths are possible, but..." ...but he's no Rex, and there are no nanites to give him unexpected powers, even with the unnatural events that are clearly going on. Even then, Rex saw the world in black and white, and was never a scientist. Cesar waves his hand to indicate everything unsaid, shrugging.

It's an honest answer. Not nearly as dismissive or disparaging as L was, but he doesn't exactly seem Matsuda as a peer, either: Matsuda is young in ways that Caesar isn't, and dim enough to cripple any expectations of brilliant ideas. He's a friendly face in a crowd of unfamiliarity, which is nice, but not a lot more.

[dead_black_eyes]

L's empty, lightless gaze focuses forward on the back of Watari's headrest. The idea of "hidden depths" is, apparently, too absurd for even a token reaction, and he gives none, glancing aside again only at the indistinct, vague gesture.

Like many normal parts of human interaction, it seems to confuse more than enlighten him, and his eyes return to their previous fixed point.

"He'll try to be your friend. Be prepared for that. You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to, and all you have to do is tell him he's not welcome to address you."

1/?

[evowhisperer]

... Is Ryuzaki warning him, as though Matsuda were an unnerving dog that could be sent away if its tics became too alarming? Caesar doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended on Matsuda's behalf. Doesn't he realize how terrible this is for morale?

The investigation team had been tense, like men that were weathering a storm from outside the group and within. No wonder, with an authoritative figure like this.

"That won't be necessary." Watch, this is how you act like a normal, social human being.

2/?

[evowhisperer]

"Social interaction is critical in stimulating the orbital prefrontal cortex, triggering our paleomamalian brain's dopamine transmitters. These kinds of established habits are beneficial for the reduction of stress, which is useful in the long run."

3/?

[evowhisperer]

(There's a beat of silence in which Caesar reevaluates the 'normal' part of his intended demonstration.

Huh.)

4/5

[evowhisperer]

"... In other words, I'd welcome anyone's friendship, especially in my current situation."

5/5

[evowhisperer]

(Of course, as sincere as Caesar is about the importance of being friendly, no one said he intended to form the deeper bonds that actually matter. This is no time to look for people to trust, not when he doesn't even plan to stay long enough to become superficial friends.

None of that will matter if he keeps that to himself, like he always has. It's convenient.

It feels comfortable.)