firm_detective: (unimpressed)
L is browsing the stacks in the eighth-floor library. Row after row of books on ornate, dark wood shelving -- How long have they been here? -- surrounds him, but he can still see the far-away main entrance to the library from where he stands. He wrinkles his nose at the faint musty scent of the crumbling volumes.

[Thread is private to [livejournal.com profile] firm_detective and [livejournal.com profile] refractings.]

Date: 2009-04-01 03:45 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[There are only so many angles Light can consider, only so many possibilities to worry over. He's stared at his notes and his diagrams for a few days now without progress.

Even Light has his limits, and what he desperately wants right now is not terrified, fevered analysis, but distraction. He has climbed the stairs to the eighth floor, thankfully seeing no one on his way, and when he glances down the hall, it also appears clear. He heads to the library door, not being particularly loud but not bothering to hide his presence either.

It doesn't occur to him to check the library itself. He closes the door behind him and sighs, running a hand over his face.]

Date: 2009-04-01 05:58 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*When L sees who has entered the vast room, he is a little put out. Unless he has missed a new arrival during his week of intentional leisure, it is one of Light's analogues who, although in the throes of selective amnesia, has nonetheless managed to be tediously argumentative.*

*He clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then exhales, which comes out as a soft, exasperated sigh. He doubts it can be heard from more than a few yards away, and Light must be -- at least twenty yards away, possibly more.*

*Turning the majority of his attention back to the shelf, he moves down the row, but remains cognizant of Light's location, attuned to any changes in the energy he projects.*

Date: 2009-04-01 06:41 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light isn't exactly at his most observant, so it's not until L moves that he realizes that there's anyone else in the room at all. Startled, he flinches violently, and it's obvious that his nerves are all but shot. Only after collecting himself does he look back at the room's other occupant.

It's L, the one that reminds Light of the L from his own universe. Upon realizing this, he blinks, and frowns, indecisive. He has been meaning to find this L and speak with him, but he hadn't thought it would happen now.

His own internal monologue irks him. There's no real reason why he can't approach L, after all. Walking quietly but briskly, he covers about half the distance between the two of them before he speaks, pitching his voice so that it will reach the detective.]

Ryuuzaki? Do you have a moment?

Date: 2009-04-01 08:05 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L gauges Light's approach as it occurs. There seems to be no anger or urgency in it, so his response is calm, mild.*

*He turns his face to look at Light. He is, himself, all wide dark eyes and a mess of black hair, but his skin is not as pallid as usual: it has been warmed by his recent days at the beach.*

A moment? Yes, Light -- *a falling note; he is tolerating this* -- I suppose I have a moment.

*His voice lacks even the most minute hint of enthusiasm.*

Why?
Edited Date: 2009-04-01 08:06 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-04-02 07:29 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light steels himself, and so when L turns to him he shows no reaction. L's eyes are huge and black in the dim lighting, but Light returns the gaze, refusing to let it discomfit him.]

I've been meaning to talk with you. It's, er, probably not urgent, but it's fairly important.

--could we sit down? [He glances around (and no, he is not stalling, thank you). His previous trips to the library have been quick and efficient, in and straight back out. He's not even sure if the room has seating.]

Date: 2009-04-02 08:25 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L's expression doesn't waver in its blandness, but he inclines his head half an inch.*

I suppose so. I will follow you.

Go back the way you came, then turn to the left, pass three more aisles, then take another left. You will see several tables, with chairs.

*The tables and chairs in question are heavy, in solid mahogany, and not easily thrown.*

Date: 2009-04-02 08:42 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light follows L's directions. The back of his neck tingles with awareness of the man behind him, but he has more important things to think about.

The furniture is set up as L described. Light sinks into the nearest chair and props his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his folded hands. His body remains still, but his eyes follow L.

He's not sure how to phrase his question. He's not really even sure that L will help him.]

Thank you for this. [His voice is quiet.] I hope I'm not inconveniencing you.
Edited Date: 2009-04-02 08:43 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-04-02 08:53 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*He follows Light to the tables -- he could have led the way, but prefers to keep Light where he can be seen. When they arrive, he walks around the table to take a seat diagonal to the one Light has chosen. He pulls it back, hops up into it, then settles in on his haunches, supported by the edge of the table.*

*There is no response to Light's attempts at politeness; instead, he replies in a cool, businesslike tone,*

What did you want, Light?

Date: 2009-04-04 08:23 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light is almost offended, but he is the supplicant here: His lips thin, but he doesn't otherwise acknowledge L's brusqueness. In any case, there are more important issues at hand. He straightens his back and regards L, his expression pensive.

When he speaks, it is after a long pause.] I need information. I was... referred to you, I suppose, by my double. The one with the sketchbook? [He gives a small shrug.] I won't be making a habit of taking his advice, but it seemed sound enough in this case. I--

[He cuts himself off with a sigh, glancing down at the table with a frown. He's getting ahead of himself.] First, I need to know if I'm likely to retain my memories of the Mansion, if and when I return to my own universe. If not, this whole line of questioning will be pointless. [He doesn't have any reason to assume L would know, beyond that his nature might bring him to seek out the information, but he may as well ask.] Do you happen to know what happens to people who are taken back?

Date: 2009-04-05 08:04 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*As L listens, his eyebrows go up, hidden by his hair, causing his cold, dark eyes to widen. The wideness intesifies just once, a flicker at the mention of the double who suggested speaking to him.*

*When Light has finished talking, L begins to think over the question. His eyes narrow as he considers his answer; his tone, when he speaks, is aloof.*

You should understand that I am wary of giving anyone information that I think is likely to get back to him. Do you know better than to let him use you?

*For the moment, he disregards Light's question; how he answers it will depend on the response he is given.*

Date: 2009-04-05 09:34 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light looks flatly at L.] If I intended to bring information back to him, I wouldn't have mentioned him to you.

[He doesn't want to be open with L. He isn't particularly inclined to share more than the most essential facts. But he needs this knowledge, needs it badly, and there's not much he wouldn't sacrifice in order to attain it. He grits his teeth and forces himself to speak.] At the time that my double mentioned speaking with you, we were in the room that issued cards with unhelpful commands for self-improvement. I'm suspicious of the things he says, just on principle, but that room seemed to minimize his ability to be misleading.

Would I let him use me? I can't say "no, absolutely not," since I don't know the future. But I don't think so. He's... Kira. [Light flashes a quick, bitter smile at this.] A self-aware Kira, that is, and I'm trying to prevent something like him -- [like us, he thinks] -- from happening to my universe. His goals and mine are pretty much in opposition to each other. I prefer not to speak to him at all, to be honest, and that makes the passing of information difficult, if nothing else.

[Light pauses, uncomfortable, but at this point he may as well just keep talking.] And regarding his advice... really, there aren't that many people I can consult. I think-- I hope, at least, that you'll be willing to help me for the sake of the people in my universe. [Light is under no illusions that L would be interested in aiding him for his own sake, either this L or his own, and the thought doesn't sting, not at all. Really.]

Date: 2009-04-06 08:53 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*The gaze he returns to Light is just as flat.*

It isn't possible that you might have mentioned him, thinking that would be my assumption? Did he seem interested in the information?

*Then, he exhales, and his shoulders slump a little more.*

Relax, Light. Trying too hard to convince someone is suspicious in itself. I'm not the only person who has left and come back, but I am one of the more recent victims of the mansion's tendency to behave as a revolving door.

I will not tell you how Kira is caught, how to catch him -- I am not convinced that is information that you need. At any rate, if he wanted you to have it, your double would tell you how it happened for him. I can't be sure that he has not, but I think it is unlikely.

*His small smile is dazzling in its insincerity; it doesn't reach his eyes, which remain wide and cold. He wonders whether or not he cares about the people in Light's universe -- the precise degree of his own possible callousness; only one world is his concern, and he has done what he can by it.*

*Still, since the cost of this is small, he decides -- *

I doubt it can hurt to tell you something that you would be likely to learn on your own in the long run.

Yes, I know what happens to people who are taken back.
Edited Date: 2009-04-06 08:55 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-04-06 09:27 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light sighs.] No. He didn't seem interested at all.

You know, it almost sounds like you're trying to act in accordance with his wishes. [He looks away, staring over L's shoulder. It's only been five minutes and already he's tired.] I don't really care what you think, Ryuuzaki, as long as I can avoid recovering my memories. It seems like that would be possible even without knowing how to capture whomever is acting as Kira now.

But-- anyway. [Light makes a quick, dismissive gesture, and turns back to L.] The people who are sent back?

Date: 2009-04-07 02:13 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
The people who are sent back, *he echoes,* seem to retain their memories of this place. At the very least, I did, and Misa did. If I had not, it is possible that I would not be alive now -- though I will admit that the circumstances are special.

*He is more thoughtful, now, and begins to touch his chin with his fingertips; he tugs at his lower lip with his index finger.*

I can think of at least two ways to avoid recovering your memories, but you would have to do both, and even then, I cannot be sure that they will work.
Edited Date: 2009-04-07 02:15 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-04-07 05:21 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[L's words -- if I had not, it is possible that I would not be alive now -- spark a quick flash of fear that Light refuses to examine. Instead he refocuses on the first thing that presents itself, which is, logically enough, the end of L's last sentence.

He's not going to allow himself to appear angry, not now, but that doesn't mean he can't speak.] Ryuuzaki, I'm sure you can think of more than two things. Your paranoia is just keeping you from sharing most of them. [He sounds resigned, more than anything else.]

Date: 2009-04-07 05:37 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
No. It is that two things are the most important, and the easiest ways to keep you from regaining your memory.

*Though it will not matter -- if he finds that you are guilty, then regardless of how much of it you remember, he is likely to pursue the rest of the case. Then -- Rem will still kill him, won't she? A faint vertical line appears between his eyebrows*

To begin with, take no active part in the investigation. In particular, if you are able to catch the person currently working as Kira, they will have a black notebook in their possession. You can never touch that notebook. If you do, your memories -- and the personality associated with them, like that of your double -- will return.

*His voice, still subdued, now has a hint of command in it. If I did not tell him, he would be likely to put his hands on it without knowing -- now, at least, he knows.*

Date: 2009-04-07 04:59 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
So as soon as I touch a Death Note, my memories will return and I'll become Kira again. [Light frowns.] That seems... too easy, somehow, given what I've heard of the notebook.

[Light lets out a slow breath. The information regarding the notebook seems somehow off, and it doesn't quite mesh with what his double has told him, but that's not what he's thinking about at the moment. He's more concerned with how, realistically, he could remove himself from the investigation. He wants to go through with this, but he doesn't want to die because of it. But either way, he'll do what he has to do. He will.

Nonetheless...] All right. That makes sense. All right. But it'll seem suspicious, won't it? Is there a way to withdraw that would raise... minimal suspicion, at least?

Date: 2009-04-08 05:49 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L has been biting at the tip of his index finger, contemplative; to speak, he removes it from his mouth.*

Too easy? I do not think it restores it permanently -- only owning the Death Note again does that.

*He stops himself before continuing, I have owned two. There are things Light doesn't need to know unless it becomes completely necessary.*

Only you know what will raise minimal suspicion. Maybe you will become frustrated at your inability to catch Kira. Maybe you are angry with my double, because of the length of your imprisonment, and disappointed that your own ideas have not borne fruit.

My second suggestion, though, goes back to the question of the notebooks themselves.

Date: 2009-04-21 04:39 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light's eyes cut briefly across the table to L. He's surprised; he had simply been thinking aloud, organizing his thoughts, and hadn't expected a real response. He blinks absently, replaying in his mind his conversation with his alternate. "We traced Kira. Caught him. Found his killing method... Then I reclaimed it." The obnoxious smugness of the last sentence reeks of death -- but Light had thought so upon hearing it, as well. It will still be there later. He pushes it aside.

He can imagine his double's reaction to any of L's proposed excuses, but they're as plausible as any, so although he would very much like to protest, he doesn't. Instead, he nods in comprehension.]

What's your second suggestion?

Date: 2009-04-25 06:31 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*Frowning, he pushes his hand up into his hair, dark locks protruding from between his long, bony fingers. He sits like that for a moment before answering Light's question.*

Can you think of anywhere you might have hidden the notebook, or scraps of it? Any habitual hiding places? It would be something that others would not have access to.

In this case, I believe it would be something with which you could avoid casual contact. You would be unlikely to touch it until you wanted to; then, it would be close at hand when the time was right. A board in the floor of your room; the air ducts; a compartment in your wallet -- anything?

*He follows his questions with a penetrating stare. This is one of the last holes in his own understanding.*
Edited Date: 2009-04-25 06:32 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-04-27 08:10 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light hesitates, but only briefly. He would prefer to keep his secrets, but this isn't his L, after all. Just an imitation. His thumb traces the face of his watch: around the edge, through the center. His eyes never waver from their focus, a lock of hair sticking almost straight up from L's scalp. It's bizarre, and easy to fixate on. Is there really a scrap of killer notebook paper sitting against his wrist?]

My watch. It has a hidden compartment. Small, obviously, but easily large enough for a scrap of paper. [He continues to gaze at the tuft of hair as though fascinated by it.] If I were to tear out and stash part of the notebook, I would put it there. [His voice, and thoughts, are confident. He knows himself.]

You think there's a piece in now.

Date: 2009-04-27 08:21 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*There's another delay in his response. His hand stays in his hair, but his other hand goes to his mouth, and he commences biting at the tips of those fingers. The few people who know him well would recognize this as a display of agitation.*

I think there is a chance of it. A good chance. I do not think that you would have been in the position you were in when you were brought here if there was no strong suspicion on the part of my double that you could be Kira, and I do not think there would be strong suspicion on his part unless he was correct. That is, unless he is very different from me, but you have not indicated --

*A huff of air, and he bites hard on his fingertip, thinking. His voice is softer when he speaks again. The watch, is it the watch? I instructed them to take the watch from him and destroy it if he returns -- his shoes, too. If it is the watch, we may be safe.*

The trouble is, if you open the compartment, then touch the paper, the likelihood that you will be willing to give it up is small.

Perhaps you will open the compartment, and I will take the paper. If you want to be sure -- I can touch you with it, as a test, but it will be in my possession, and you will forget again after I take it away.

Date: 2009-04-30 06:55 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light laughs. It's an abrupt sound without much humor, and is quickly cut off.] No. No, you and he aren't much different.

[Finally, with equal parts reluctance and strange eagerness, he drops his gaze to his watch. It had been taken from him during his confinement, but returned when he had been given a change of clothes -- when he had thought he was being released. When they tried to goad him into murdering his father. And -- he could have, if it weren't for the handcuffs. He had Kira's murder weapon with him the whole time. Would he have done it, if he had been aware? If it had been a matter of his father's life for his own?

Had it been such a situation, after all? This L, crouching on the other side of the table, with his mannerisms and his speech patterns and his eyes, all copied -- this replica could have lied. But Light hopes -- it surprises him but he hopes very much that it was an act.

It is difficult to believe -- if Soichiro was acting, he missed his calling.

And is Light missing his own? Or has he found it, only to turn away now? Which one would be worse, and will such questions matter once years have passed, if Light finds himself purposeless, adrift, empty or mad or perhaps both? Light has never believed himself to be a selfless person, but he's always considered himself just.

Which, he can only assume, is why he became Kira to begin with--

--Light can see where that train of thought is going. With a suddenness that surprises even him, he lifts his left wrist and pulls on the watch stem one, two, three, four times in quick succession. The hidden compartment makes no noise as it slides out.

There's a piece of lined paper lying on the tray, folded. Light has no memory of putting it there.

He stares at it for perhaps a second before thrusting his arm blindly out at L, his eyes fixed on a spot directly in front of him.] Here. [His voice is low and tense.] That has to be it, I have no idea when it got there.

Date: 2009-05-03 07:50 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*First, a heavy sigh, as he stares at the scrap of paper. Next, a penetrating glance at Light's face; Light's eyes are not, at the moment, looking back at him. The silence in the library is almost a roar.*

*With one motion, L reaches over, using just his fingertips to slip the paper out of the watch's compartment almost as if by sleight-of-hand; he stands, then, pocketing the scrap.*

Please come with me. There is a room down the hall with a fireplace. I have no intention of testing this unless it can be destroyed within a second or two.

*His manner has changed to something brusque and businesslike. He begins to lope in the direction of the doors that lead out of the library.*

Keep up.
Edited Date: 2009-05-03 07:52 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-05-17 11:27 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light has braced himself for a sudden, visceral sense of bereavement, and so when it doesn't come he is still a moment, startled -- although there's no reason, is there, for him to feel any sort of connection with the scrap. His connection with the Death Note has already been severed.

But the loss -- the loss, he realizes a fraction of a moment later, as it hits -- is present, is very real, simply existing at a higher and more cerebral level than he expected (of Kira), and will that make it less painful, or more so, Light wonders.

And he supposes he'll find out sooner or later, but he's currently busy making other unpleasant discoveries, and will have to save that particular unpleasant discovery for later. He has never mastered the trick of shutting down his thoughts. They slither through his head too quickly for him to grasp them and smother them. But he can drown them out, and therefore, immensely thankful that the exercise only manifests internally, he begins to shout into his head.

LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA

It's a horrible, tuneless noise, even in his mind, and he immediately feels the beginnings of a headache swim into nebulous being behind his left temple, but apparently he has a hallway to walk down, and he will begin to focus on the wrong things if he doesn't prevent the thoughts from taking hold.

The hallway. Right. And speaking of.

Having gotten to his feet as soon as L said the word "fireplace", and having started moving shortly after L started heading for the door, Light bristles at the casual command L throws back at him.]

I'm keeping up perfectly well.

[The utter infantility of the statement strikes him, as tends to happen when he deals with Ls, an instant too late to stop the words from leaving his mouth. Well, and it's true, he thinks obstinately. But L's (aggravatingly) right about the fireplace. Even if they weren't going to test the effects of his touching the scrap, it would need to be burned... it would need to...

LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA, Light screeches a bit desperately at his brain, and follows L.]


[[[ooc: ...lolwut. DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT]]]

Date: 2009-05-21 10:00 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*Out of the library through its double doors, down the hall, and into the room in question: L moves at a hasty gait. Two chairs sit before a roaring fire in what looks like the study of a English gentleman of the nineteenth century.*

*He takes up a place near the mantel, standing such that the pokers are behind him and Light will be forced to stand in front of him. He doesn't want Kira -- however momentarily he is present -- to have easy access to a weapon.*

Stand here, Light, and hold out your hand -- as close to the fire as you can tolerate. I will touch it with the paper, and we will see what happens.

*There is a fleeting wish that he had taken a moment in the library to leave a note about his whereabouts. It's too late for that now... but at least the warmth from the fire is pleasant, dispelling the chill that exists in so many parts of the mansion. L wriggles his toes as he waits for Light to approach.*
Edited Date: 2009-05-21 10:01 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-05-30 07:32 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[This is your last chance to keep it, Yagami, Light finds himself thinking before he shoves the idea out of his mind, annoyed that it even found its way into his stream of thought. It's not true in any case. His last chance was gone when he handed the scrap to L. It was gone when he told L about the compartment in his watch.

He follows L into the room -- he more than half-expects the Mansion to present them with a trick room, given the circumstances, but it is for once cooperative -- and stands where L indicates, noting L's position, blocking his access to the heavy iron pokers by the fireplace. This is probably a smart move, but in all honesty, Light doesn't think he'll require any weapons, if he gets it into his head to attack L.

He glances across at the detective, at the way the light of the fire flickers over the musculature in his neck. The man looks terribly skinny, but not necessarily fragile. As Light remembers the white-and-blue blur from the tennis match, he thinks that L can probably take care of himself.

The fire crackles and flickers with a sort of indifferent cheerfulness. It would be easy to imagine the flames consuming anything (a log, a house, a person, a piece of paper) and continuing to burn, unfazed, self-possessed. Very simple, but Light isn't that whimsical, and he has other things on his mind. He holds out his hand, palm facing the fireplace. With his hand like this, grabbing the scrap will be more difficult, if he should decide to try for it.

His hand is close enough to the fire to feel its heat as more than just a benign warmth. The proximity is bearable for the moment. He glances up at L, then, in a nonverbal request, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves.]

Date: 2009-05-31 07:47 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*He nods, once, and is surprised by his own heightened sense of anticipation. This is not the first scrap of its paper that I have touched, not the first time I have been in a room alone with Light, or Kira, or a Light who is or has been Kira.*

*Then, the understanding comes to him: it's the first time he's likely to see the memories returning. He doesn't know exactly how Light will react; he may maintain self-control, or he may collapse, or he may go wild. L has gathered from Misa that the return of the memories is traumatic, but they were unpleasant for her -- shameful, to some extent -- and there is every chance that Light is not in the least ashamed of what he has done.*

*His gaze is locked on Light's face: a change should show there, first. His own expression is at its most focused, its most grave. He is full of resolve.*

*Holding the scrap between his first and second fingers, pressed together, he touches it to the back of Light's hand, and waits for a response.*
Edited Date: 2009-05-31 07:49 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-06-22 09:53 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[The fire is spilling its heat onto Light's hand, and except for the crackling of burning logs, the room is silent. Light inhales the scent of smoke and hickory wood and then, as the scrap of paper nears his hand, stops breathing. He has prepared his mind for anything -- an overflow of sensation and memory, a sudden understanding of everything that right now is a blank spot in his mind, perhaps the presence of another being entirely in his mind... even, as unlikely as it seems, nothing happening at all.

Then the paper, so normal-looking, so deceptive, touches his skin.

So much floods Light's brain that for an instant he loses himself completely, becomes a creature purely of images and voices and churning, poisonous impulse. When he grabs ahold his identity again, it's almost not a relief because this hurts, this hurts, he can feel memory -- this is what it is, this is what he is doing, he is regaining himself he was so lost showed each other our notebooks at Aoyama so empty -- he can feel them filling those holes in his mind, forcing their way through his conscious mind to shove themselves Naomi Misora L do you know into crevices and cracks and where is he, this is not-- why is-- there are mental connections he can't make yet and there's still more, god, there's still more and he can hear his neurons screeching or maybe they will follow him I am L forever, wasn't made for humans, no -- yes I am Kira I--

Less than half a second has passed, but for all Light knows he's been frozen in place for hours, his gasp of surprise choked off and smothered. There's no room in his mind for physical sensation, but something deep in the animal part of his brain knows to scream, and so he does.]

Date: 2009-07-16 09:30 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L watches, waiting for the change, fascination mingled with anticipation, wondering if he will feel any real horror when it happens.*

*There isn't the opportunity. The scream begins almost immediately after the gasp.*

*His gaze doesn't leave Light's face. Instead, his fingers open enough to let the scrap slip through them and fall into the fire, where it begins to burn in an instant, blackening and curling.*

*He finds that he has forgotten to breathe; he wonders if it will be necessary to run.*

Date: 2009-07-30 03:51 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[It's as though Light's brain can't contain the knowledge it's receiving -- memories that still sting from being snapped into place begin to be sucked away. The process isn't painful, as such; the first time these memories vanished he had been expecting it, had let them go without a fight, and it hadn't even been unpleasant, except for the headache after. But this time he needs to keep them, he can't keep bumbling around this place like an idiot, cognizant of his identity but so ignorant of what it means--

It's hopeless and he knows it but he grabs at them, clutching, digging in his claws, trying to focus on all of them at once.

They rip themselves from his grasp anyway. Images and scenes go dark one by one like someone's hit a series of light switches until after a long long instant

His head hurts terribly and he's screaming. Why is he screaming? He cuts himself off with a rasping gurgle he barely hears. It hurts his throat, but he hardly notices that either. The piece of notebook paper curls and blackens in the flames as he stumbles back and sideways, his thoughts clumsy and fumbling. What--]

Date: 2009-08-04 12:32 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L stands, transfixed and troubled and surprised, staring at Light. After a moment's hesitation, he finds his voice, and speaks in a low tone.*

Please sit down.

*His pale skin stands out in the room's warm dimness; he points to a chair next to Light with his finger, a white arrow.*

Date: 2009-08-04 02:10 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light obeys gracelessly and without question, his mind still buzzing with tangled, half-completed thoughts. The cushioned impact with the chair makes him blink, though, and his eyes snap into focus. He stares at L, looking confused and a bit afraid and altogether very young.]

Date: 2009-08-04 02:13 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*He remains standing, between the chair opposite Light and the fire.*

What happened? What did it -- ?

*How did it feel? He elects not to use that wording.*

Date: 2009-08-04 02:25 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
I... I don't know. [He's speaking slowly, tripping a bit over the syllables.] It... My head hurts. Was I screaming?

[He wants to hug his knees to his chest and huddle back into the embrace of the chair. He settles for wrapping his arms around himself and hunching his back. He's still staring, wide-eyed and unsure, although lucidity seems to be returning.]

Date: 2009-08-04 02:54 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*L seems frozen in time, one hand now resting on the top of the chair next to him. After a beat, he nods.*

Yes. You began to, and then --

*His other hand gestures towards the fire.*

I dropped it in.

-- I think it can be considered conclusive.

Date: 2009-08-04 03:13 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
[Light releases a huff of humorless laughter.] Yes. It can, can't it.

[He does pull his knees up to his torso now, as he turns to stare into the fire. His head is pounding incessantly. He feels sick and distantly horrified, and while he doesn't want to be alone, he finds that he wants L's company even less.]

Thank you. For your assistance.

Date: 2009-08-05 06:50 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
Yes.

*He doesn't show any sign that he will be going anywhere. His hand remains poised on the back of the chair. His gaze shifts over to the fire, then back.*

It is hot in here, isn't it?

*He doesn't know if it's the fire that makes the room stuffy, or if the atmosphere feels airless because of what has just happened.*

-- What can you remember about what happened, just now?

*Something suggests to him that he should leave, for his own safety, but he may never again have the opportunity to hear about this immediately after the fact -- so he stays.*
Edited Date: 2009-08-05 07:13 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-08-07 11:09 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] refractings.livejournal.com
Is it? [Light is chilled, covered in faint goosebumps; he hugs his legs closer. The room wasn't this cold before, surely? He forces himself to pay attention to L's words, to remain in the present.]

It... I think-- it hurt. [His words are halting, stumbling over each other, unsure.] The... recovery, not the loss. My head feels... emptier? Less cluttered, although why... Everything was rushing in, and before it had stopped moving it was going again...

[The impressions are vague, and fading rapidly; Light struggles to hold on to them with a desperation that surprises him. The last time he lost his memories, his memory-less self had had no concept of what was happening. The pain was rationalized away as the beginning of his headache, and the sensation of his mind clearing had seemed clearing of cobwebs, an awakening to his situation -- What am I doing here?

He raises his eyes as far as L's neck, but can't quite look the detective in the face. His expression is strangely vulnerable.] I don't remember anything else.

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