[OPEN] The Stars, The Moon, They Have All Been Blown Out

[hearthebell]

Who: L Lawliet and YOU (some open prompts, some semi-open)
When: Octeuril 21 through the end of the month
Where: Around Geardagas
What: Waking up to find that he doesn't have permanent severe brain damage is tempered by realizing and processing that his Bonded actually does.
Warnings: References to violent events, angst, will update if necessary



A. Octeuril 21, The Cottage (Open to residents, visitors and healers)

[It's been a week since Myr's desperate attack had thrown blackout curtains over L's senses and thoughts, further complicated by the violent fundamental alteration of his Bonded. He'd received prompt healing to his head and ribs that made the overall prognosis hopeful, and has been cared for and kept comfortable enough, but the fact of the matter is that Connor woke up, and then the SQUIP, but trailing behind them, L just didn't. Frequent doses of healing magic can help, but not change, the fact that the brain is complex and fragile, and rebuilding and repairing it can take time with even skilled and careful intervention.

For seven days and nights, he's been sleeping it off, recuperating in the quiet and subtle ways that make the biggest collective difference. Eventually, the culmination amounts to "enough", and with no trigger, catalyst or warning, he sits up in bed with no memory of how he got there.

So, start from the beginning.

Who? The SQUIP. Rich. Niles, Michael, Jeremy, Connor and Justine. Myr.

What? The Bond is different. The Bond has changed. The SQUIP has changed.

Where? Just outside. There was blood on the pavement.

When? Too long ago. So much has happened.

Why? It had to be stopped.

How? Fingertips explore the tender place where a skull was broken, has begun to mend in earnest. Clear enough, somehow... with no small measure of disquietment, L understands that he should probably be a vegetable. Someone, or several someones, have been working on ensuring that he woke up with the one thing he couldn't live without intact. How long is the list of names? How many people does L theoretically owe his life to, now?]

Is someone there?

[A week in bed has him anxious to get to his feet again, but... oh, slow, it's a head rush just to put them on the floor while he remains seated. He's hungry, and though either magic or gentle attentive hands have been keeping his body free of grime, he wants to bathe badly.]

Please tell me what's happened.

[He'll settle for anyone, the first person he lays eyes on. Friend or foe, he has to know; he isn't usually the last, this way.]

B. The Coven (Open)

[Getting back to some semblance of an ordinary life means returning to old familiar habits. The things that L's grey matter remembers so well it's second nature are, quite simply, folding into the sanctuary of committed study, and while the new and far more human SQUIP needs him in ways it didn't used to, that's still overwhelming. Latching onto L as a fellow human who can guide it through this transition is a mistake; whether or not it's a birthright, L was never very good at being human. It's the reason he considered a machine safe, and now that it's distraught and tormented and volatile, all on account of its reaction to his injury.

Books and scrolls are stacked high at his side, and he's working on a new set of runes. A jeweler's magnifying lens is held against his eye as he carefully etches them into pieces of scrap metal bent into the crude shape of a ring. These are just practice goes, of course, but some of them are promising. He places them in one pile; a far larger pile of rejects is littering the floor around the legs of his chair.

He glances your way, shoulders curling, seeming to grow a touch more protective of his work. Lately, he can only assume that others want to take things from him that bring him some small semblance of happiness.]

C. The Sly Seadog- Samuin (Open)

[Then, of course, there are the things that are not familiar at all. A mind is more than just a collection of memories and compiled facts; it has to adapt and respond and arrange data into solutions, and while working in a controlled and quiet environment is one way to test that, L can't think of a better scenario than this one to put himself through his paces.

The SQUIP can't help him the way it used to. He feels, in many ways, like a child about to cross the street for the first time without holding his caretaker's hand.]

Buy me a shot of liquor.

[He's addressing you. Maybe you know each other and he genuinely feels you owe it to him; maybe you're strangers and he is just testing the baseline for any kind of natural charisma he may possess in this capacity. Either way, he's getting some looks from a few of the bar's rowdier-looking individuals, and deigns to add]

...please.

D. WILDCARD

[Don't see it? Want it? Well, COOL, in all likelihood I do too but just didn't think to include it. Write your own prompt and I'll roll with it, or hit me up on plurk at lexil or on discord at ladylazarus#2235!]

Comments

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

[Jeremy can't help but wince at the social situation that Rich is voluntarily thrusting himself into.

He's not about to join. Instead, he offers L an unimpressed look.]

This guy was staring at us the whole time while you begged money off people? I'd have been way more willing to pay for your drinks if you lead with the birthday thing. How old are you?

[hearthebell]

[Unseen by either boy, L's hand is shoved deep into his pocket, where a bit of twine is wound around his fingers. He had hoped it would be enough to get them to leave, just to see another person acknowledging L as a friend and willingly taking him on as their problem. But Rich knows Light's face thanks to L's use of it as a disguise, which complicates matters.

L's illusion operates like a rudimentary NPC. There are a limited number of responses it can give; essentially, it's designed to be possible to have a conversation with, if one tries very hard and resolutely considers it a work in progress.

The illusion glances up at Rich, wearing Light's default expression of something between boredom and disdain, and L tugs a segment of the string in his pocket with his thumb.

"Yeah... I guess you could call it something like that."

L trails after Rich, knowing he'll need to be in earshot for this. His steps scuff and stumble. He glances back over his shoulder at Jeremy, occupying the midpoint between them.]

I think I lost a few months when I arrived here. But I'd be 26 today...

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

Oh, wow.

[Jeremy tactfully restrains his shocked "That's old that wants to shoot out of his mouth.]

Happy birthday. Sorry it's such a shitty one.

[firewalled]

Something like that? You're sure not doing a great job of it if you were letting Linden harass my friend while just sitting and watching the whole time.

[Rich is unimpressed with Linden's birthday excuse. They all have shitty birthdays when they end up here. Connor spent his dealing with a bunch of his guests getting their first monster changes. Linden having to spend it drunk to deal with his SQUIP doesn't excuse his behaviour towards Jeremy or anyone else. It especially doesn't give the guy who was supposed to be looking after him any less of an obligation to do that. If anything, it gives him more reason to make sure he's not having a lousy day.

Rich folds his arms as he looks over the other man, eventually letting out a sigh.]

Listen, if you can't handle your friend, I'll take him to a hotel. Apparently Mello knows him, maybe he can crash at his place.

[hearthebell]

[The overall success of this maneuver really depends on its brevity. The longer L has to maintain the illusion and its rudimentary, pre-programmed responses need to pass muster, the more opportunities there will be to punch holes in it and ultimately reveal it for the farce that it is. And strangely? Being called out on a lie isn't what would bother L the most about it. It would require him to admit that a coping mechanism he needs is fake and pretty pathetic. It's a difficult spell, and the only reason it looks this convincing is the fact that L has practiced it a great deal, worked on it, striven to perfect it without really admitting any clearly defined reason to himself.

L stares at Jeremy for a moment, shoulders frozen mid-shrug, seeming as though he's on the fence about whether he wants to argue the relative shittiness of this birthday. Any answer seems as though it would just open up a line of more intrusive and difficult questions, and besides, L needs his focus on the blossoming interaction in the corner of the bar, where his illusion is still regarding Rich with that unimpressed default expression.]

I'm pretty sure he only just got here. Isn't that so, Light?

[Light looks put-upon. It's true to real-life; anyone who actually knew Light as L had would be blown away by how spot-on the impression has been made to be. "Given the evidence, that's the only answer that makes any sense."]

We've got it from here, alright?

["Whatever you say, Ryuzaki."]

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

[Jeremy's pretty sure that L had said that Light was here the whole time. At least, that impression was inarguable. Why hadn't Light come over and interrupted? Why would he be sitting in a corner while his birthday bud drank with a stranger? And the way he talks is bizarrely stilted. Something is off.

The words to argue his point don't come to mind. When he realizes he can't argue, Jeremy starts to doubt himself.]

Oh... Right.

[Jeremy's puzzlement is written all over his face. His frown smooths out into sheepishness.]

I don't mean to interrupt. Rich, you ready to go?

[firewalled]

[Rich holds up a hand when Jeremy speaks up, still staring intently at Light. Something is definitely off, and Rich isn't exactly the type to just let it go for fear of conflict, like Jeremy tends to.]

One sec, Heere. I don't think they've got it from here.

[He looks at Linden with a grim expression. It's not much, but he feels like if he clings to one error, the rest have to become more obvious eventually. That's the way lies work.]

Since when is your name Ryuzaki? Thought it was Tailor. Besides, even if he just got here, why'd he decide to sit by himself instead of interrupting your conversation? He must have seen you there, you're literally feet away from him.

[hearthebell]

[No, they in fact have not "got it from here." L is fairly intoxicated and Light is a step up from a hologram. It's still incredibly annoying that Rich is questioning it at all when L would rather they just leave. Jeremy's got the right idea; it's too bad that of the two of them, he's rather the one who's a bit more of a pushover. He needs a more powerful advocate to leave him to his evening of brooding self-destruction, clearly.]

Your parents didn't name you "Rich," right? It's "Richard?" You're clearly familiar with the concept of nicknames?

[Nevermind that "Ryuzaki" is a very far cry from "Linden", even with a heavy Japanese pronunciation. Much farther from the surname Tailor, which makes it even stranger.]

I like how you assume that interrupting is just second nature to everyone.

[A more pointed remark, clearly directed at Rich, the guy who ran right over to interrupt Jeremy and L's conversation the second he heard it was happening. It was so swift that L does question whether or not Jeremy asked him to come, though he insisted he hadn't.]

Believe it or not, this situation doesn't need a hero. A lot of situations don't. Jeremy gets that.

[Light doesn't have a locked-in response that's really appropriate for this. He just appears to observe with no strong feelings on the situation.]

[heerequeerandfulloffear]

[Jeremy's not happy having words put into his mouth, especially when Rich is saying exactly what he's been thinking.]

That's--no.

[Jeremy is definitely a pushover when it comes to minor things, or even about his own personal matters, but L's trying to make Rich look ridiculous.]

Okay, don't--R--Please don't try and start something. Rich is right and he's trying to help. You don't gotta accept it but don't be such a dick.

Rich, he can call us on the watches if he changes his mind about the hotel, right?

[He's silently pleading with Rich not to push it. A SQUIPped Jeremy in this situation would resent Rich giving him pity. He'd escalate the insults until Rich backed off, all while the SQUIP preached about alpha dominance in his ear. L might react the same way.]

We offered; he said no.

[firewalled]

[Rich finds himself instantly put on the defensive when L mentions his full name, and for a moment, it's not L's voice, but a clear, stern woman's voice whispering that in his ear. He bristles and almost physically reels back, giving Jeremy time to step in... which he certainly wasn't expecting.

Jeremy coming to his defense. He almost feels like laughing. Like Rich was the one who needed protection from bullies. He was trying to help, yes, but if Jeremy thought for a second, he'd probably laugh of the idea of defending Rich's moral goodness.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He desperately wants to push it, wants to try harder to get him to see sense, but he knows he has to take his turn playing protector.]

Yeah, you're right. Let's go. You can call us if you need, Linden.

[hearthebell]

Good.

[That's what I want.]

Please go, then.

[It can't be soon enough.

He slides in next to the illusion of Light Yagami, which is surprisingly solid in spite of its magical nature. It feels like shelter, anyway, against the inconvenient racket of other people maybe giving a shit.]