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soul_campaign2012-03-20 05:17 pm
dead_black_eyes) wrote in soul_campaign2012-03-20 05:17 pm
Entry tags:
Entry #A-11: "Anticlastic" [February 3, Audio, Morning]
[The last three days have run L absolutely ragged.
The madness-induced events of the 31st had been no joke, leaving L with finger-shaped bruises on his throat, drugged (sleeping pills), and poisoned (undercooked eggs? Or perhaps something else?) . The 1st of February had been spent recovering from the exhaustion and illness of the previous day, , and the 2nd had found him tentatively leaving the apartment in search of something to soothe his unsettled stomach... only to find himself in the middle of an attack on the city.
A crow familiar had tried to seize his skinny arm and carry him away. He'd beat it off with an enormous bottle of Pepto-Bismol he'd purchased moments before the city had erupted in chaos, stumbling and half-falling into a shop's storm cellar.
He had remained there, motionless and wide-eyed, all night, watching shadows pass outside and pressing his back against the wall if one came too close. At one point, a zombie had tried to break in; scarcely daring to breathe, L had held the doors shut, knuckles whiter than his face, until the threat had given up and shambled off to find a meal more easily extracted from its seclusion.
Now it is the 3rd. The Madness Wavelength is all but out of his system entirely (no small thanks to the food poisoning), and he emerges, disheveled and blinking, into the quiet street.
He takes out his communicator, reading the news as he walks, briskly, and then at a slight jog, back towards Death City Heights.
He's moving too quickly to be a zombie, so hopefully residents won't mistake the gaunt, rigid-eyed man for one. He simply looks like someone who is consumed by an all-important purpose, and whose legs might give out before he accomplishes it. There are also some alarmingly vivid bruises on his neck, but if you're polite, maybe you'll pretend you don't notice.]
[Private to Mello and Near]
If you're there, please answer as soon as possible.
[/End Private to Mello and Near]
[Private to the Members of the Watch and the Agency (Excluding Light Yagami)]
I'm Rue Ryuzaki, a relatively new member of the Watch. I respectfully request the names of those who either died or went missing during last night's attack, especially those who were scheduled to work with these two organizations today but failed to show up this morning.
[/End Private to the Members of the Watch and the Agency (Excluding Light Yagami)]
[Private to Light Yagami]
Where are you, at this exact moment?
[/End Private to Light Yagami]
[Private to Bakura]
Make me something to eat. Immediately. I haven't eaten since the 31st you cad and if I'm going to do something about this situation, I'm going to need more energy than what I can currently muster. Leave it at my apartment.
[/End Private to Bakura]
[He makes it all the way to Mello and Near's apartment, letting himself in with a key they never asked him to return and finding no trace of his successors.
Exhausted, he leans against the wall and slides to the floor, cupping his communicator in his hands. He'll go back to his apartment soon... but for now, he's winded, heart pounding in his thin chest and his legs refusing to work. It can wait until he's rested a moment.]
The madness-induced events of the 31st had been no joke, leaving L with finger-shaped bruises on his throat, drugged (sleeping pills), and poisoned (undercooked eggs? Or perhaps something else?) . The 1st of February had been spent recovering from the exhaustion and illness of the previous day, , and the 2nd had found him tentatively leaving the apartment in search of something to soothe his unsettled stomach... only to find himself in the middle of an attack on the city.
A crow familiar had tried to seize his skinny arm and carry him away. He'd beat it off with an enormous bottle of Pepto-Bismol he'd purchased moments before the city had erupted in chaos, stumbling and half-falling into a shop's storm cellar.
He had remained there, motionless and wide-eyed, all night, watching shadows pass outside and pressing his back against the wall if one came too close. At one point, a zombie had tried to break in; scarcely daring to breathe, L had held the doors shut, knuckles whiter than his face, until the threat had given up and shambled off to find a meal more easily extracted from its seclusion.
Now it is the 3rd. The Madness Wavelength is all but out of his system entirely (no small thanks to the food poisoning), and he emerges, disheveled and blinking, into the quiet street.
He takes out his communicator, reading the news as he walks, briskly, and then at a slight jog, back towards Death City Heights.
He's moving too quickly to be a zombie, so hopefully residents won't mistake the gaunt, rigid-eyed man for one. He simply looks like someone who is consumed by an all-important purpose, and whose legs might give out before he accomplishes it. There are also some alarmingly vivid bruises on his neck, but if you're polite, maybe you'll pretend you don't notice.]
[Private to Mello and Near]
If you're there, please answer as soon as possible.
[/End Private to Mello and Near]
[Private to the Members of the Watch and the Agency (Excluding Light Yagami)]
I'm Rue Ryuzaki, a relatively new member of the Watch. I respectfully request the names of those who either died or went missing during last night's attack, especially those who were scheduled to work with these two organizations today but failed to show up this morning.
[/End Private to the Members of the Watch and the Agency (Excluding Light Yagami)]
[Private to Light Yagami]
Where are you, at this exact moment?
[/End Private to Light Yagami]
[Private to Bakura]
Make me something to eat. Immediately. I haven't eaten since the 31st you cad and if I'm going to do something about this situation, I'm going to need more energy than what I can currently muster. Leave it at my apartment.
[/End Private to Bakura]
[He makes it all the way to Mello and Near's apartment, letting himself in with a key they never asked him to return and finding no trace of his successors.
Exhausted, he leans against the wall and slides to the floor, cupping his communicator in his hands. He'll go back to his apartment soon... but for now, he's winded, heart pounding in his thin chest and his legs refusing to work. It can wait until he's rested a moment.]
[Action]
[ His words are cold, confirming the conclusion L had drawn. Light doesn't want to be on the topic. And he certainly hopes this will be enough for L to drop it altogether as something of a fluke. He would be able to accept it had he been in the right state of mind and done it, but the madness led him to do many things he wouldn't have normally done. As much as he would love to strangle the life out of L, Light doesn't think he could take a human life with his bare hands. And the kiss? He doesn't even know where that factors in.
Considering he can't analyze his own actions (which is disconcerting) he definitely doesn't want L analyzing them and coming to all sorts of false conclusions. ]
[Action]
"Hoped" was too strong a word. Blasphemy, even. But L had not responded with revulsion, largely because he hadn't felt revulsion. Madness did many things to him, but strangely enough, it scarcely ever made him behave in ways that were uncharacteristic to him. He was always unpredictable and strange... the black blood had just pushed him to certain points more quickly than he might otherwise have allowed.
He clears his throat.]
Then... in the spirit of "moving on..." I should make arrangements for us to join the rescue effort. Please be prepared to leave as soon as possible...