(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

[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.)

[dead_black_eyes]

L is absolutely warning Caesar, because it's highly likely that he actually sees the well-meaning and cheerful young man that way. Maybe it's another attempt at camaraderie, of finding common ground with Caesar based on mutual contempt, which seems to be one of the only emotions he has a definite and clear grasp of.

He stares at the man as he offers an eloquent explanation of concepts that are innate to most humans, especially ones like Matsuda (possibly moreso than ones like Caesar), and maybe there's a touch of resentment behind those black-ice eyes as L recognizes it.

"Stress is not a problem for me."

Not nonexistent, mind; just not a problem. The worn-out, pale, strange husk of a person sitting beside Caesar probably views it as just another motivator to create urgency as he continually one-ups himself over the course of his already dizzyingly imposing career.

And social interaction is not a habit, it's a necessity and it creates stress that is nothing but self-punishment.

He blinks, a rare occurrence. It happens slowly, and anyone familiar with a cat's behavior patterns might recognize it as the sign of a creature that doesn't see what it's staring at as a potential threat.

"...Anyone?" he asks after a moment.

[evowhisperer]

Caesar's bland smile is a little pinched at the edges. He doesn't regret making his stance on the matter clear, but he's more than perceptive enough to know it will probably have consequences.

"... Ah... within reason, of course."

What sort of unpleasant person is Ryuzaki already planning to assign to him? That's the biggest possible retribution Caesar can predict, here. He's shown up his boss for being antisocial, so what else would Ryuzaki want to do but make it inconvenient?

The real suggestions that Ryuzaki might have don't occur to him, yet. He's naively innocent that way.

[dead_black_eyes]

L's hand travels toward his mouth, where he gnaws singlemindedly at his cuticles.

"I see. Then... I don't suppose that you're fond of chess? Not that there will be much time to take away from the investigation, but if socializing is so important to you, then I certainly do not need as much sleep as I've been getting."

Not nearly enough, argues literally everything about his appearance.

[evowhisperer]

Ah haha... crap. Caesar stares, counting all the minutes he already didn't have in the shadows of L's eyes.

"... Yes?" he hazards. "I mean, I understand the basic rules." Enough to put up a good fight, but not enough for him to feel confident in this offhand challenge. How did this happen? Is this agent deliberately trying to overload him with his presence, like a poacher in a truck waiting for its prey to collapse from exhaustion? But Caesar isn't even the detective's true target! Why is all this attention centered on him?

"Wouldn't you also want to have drinks with your team sometime? It would be good for morale," he hedges. He's doing an awful job at hiding his apprehension, and the fact that he's trying to dilute the attention is more than obvious.

[dead_black_eyes]

It's fairly clear from the subtle, vaguely recoiling reaction that not a single part of that suggestion appeals to L. Drinking, team, with...

"You think I'd like them better if I was drinking?" he asks pointedly. Then he laughs, and it's terrifyingly unnatural to the point where it almost seems like it could be mocking. "...you might be right, but I don't drink when I'm working and it happens that I'm always working, even when I'm not. Therefore, I do not drink."

[evowhisperer]

It's as though someone fitted a Black Pawn with a human face. Caesar stares, feeling a chill creep along his spine, and it occurs to him that even when locking gazes with glowing eyes in faces covered in scales and teeth, he'd never thought to himself that they were inhuman. He'd avoided thinking about the personhood of the victims around him, sure, promising himself in a mental chant that by carrying out his work he was helping them in the greater picture. He'd avoided looking them in the eye, ashamed of himself and unwilling to face it head on. He'd stopped thinking about it at all.

There's something about Ryuzaki that is conspicuous in its absence. It's a void where human connections would usually reside. He's like a malnourished goblin king, controlling everything but taking joy in nothing. He's a creature in his own right; perhaps not one that's mutated outwardly, but he's certainly no longer the same in his mind.

He's trying to reach out to Caesar in his own way, crooked and unaccustomed to compromise.

Caesar pushes the feeling to one side, planning to reexamine it later. For now he frowns slightly, disturbed.

"Surely there must be times when you take some sort of break."

The shadows under Ryuzaki's eyes look permanent, and Caesar doubts.

[dead_black_eyes]

L doesn't blink again. The stare is hollow, ghoulish and unwavering as he considers Caesar's question for longer than it could possibly take him to formulate an answer. He's entertaining potential questions within the question, and numbers crunch behind his glassy eyes as he calculates percentages and risks.

"Have you ever wondered why they call them 'breaks?'" he asks after a moment. "In my native language, anyway, it's the same word as something that's fractured into one or more pieces. It's no longer whole. Some clarity and coherence is lost, surely, when something is broken too many times."

He sits forward, staring intently at the back of Watari's head. The old man says nothing, simply driving in silence.

"When you think about something so much that you dream about it every time you fall asleep, you might be working hard enough."

[evowhisperer]

Nanites. Family. Rex regaining his memories. The knowledge that so much suffering in the world was because of his actions. More than any of these, the constant stream of chemicals, programs, diagrams, and molecular arrays.

Cesar's thoughts show clearly in his eyes, and the fact that he's completely familiar with this degree of obsession is broadcasting for all to see. He doesn't realize it; all he knows is that Lazarus is asking him to return to that level, and he's mildly conflicted by it. On the one hand, he'd hoped to recover more after leaving his home world. On the other, he was probably going to push himself like this from the start.

Caesar crosses his arms. "Too many breaks is detrimental to work, but so is not enough. Mental relaxation replenishes creativity, and allows for more free associations."

[dead_black_eyes]

There's a lot that isn't being spoken aloud, but is informative nevertheless. L notes Cesar's silence and turns back toward him, holding eye contact for longer than is natural or comfortable. What he knows of human nature is cold and sterile and analytical; there's no instinct in the way he reads the subtleties in a man's expressions, but there's knowledge and intuition at work, and it's thorough as hell.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Watari interjects just as the first syllable is starting to creak into existence.

"If I may offer my opinion, Ryuzaki."

"Now isn't the time, Watari," he replies frostily.

"Ryuzaki," the old man says firmly. "It is. I agree with Mr. Salazar, with all due respect. For your wellness, which matters to me, you might consider entertaining his point of view."