firm_detective: (bitch are you for real?)
*L walks into the room, carrying a plate of sandwiches, and finds the room empty. The handcuff chain is still attached to the headboard, but [livejournal.com profile] emo_raito is nowhere to be seen; the bed is rumpled, and a few safety pins are scattered near the open shackle at the end of the chain. Death Cab for Cutie's "We Looked Like Giants" blares from a laptop computer that's also open on the mattress, as if it were intended as a presentation for the next person to enter the room.*

*L takes in the details -- no real signs of a struggle, the computer is fine, and it's not out of the realm of possibility that someone could pick the lock of the cuff with a few pins. His anger is beginning to grow, and he frowns to himself, and begins thinking, as he checks the bathroom and finds nobody there, and returns to the bedroom...*

All right -- Light didn't do this himself; if he'd had safety pins, and been able to pick the lock, he would have done it a long time ago. That was a strong lock -- I'm surprised it could be picked with safety pins -- but never mind, there's nothing I can do about that now....

But who else knows where this room is? I don't think it was Meile -- he wouldn't have come for polite conversation, and I don't think he would pick the lock closest to Light's wrist, if he picked any at all. It would be more convenient for him to limit Yagami's range of motion, unless -- unless he didn't want me to find him here. But there's no struggle.

Amane has never been here, so it probably wasn't her.

If there was some way for the mansion to show people to the room they're looking for, I wouldn't have wandered into that Truth Room the other night... no, I definitely wasn't looking for that. So... it has to have been someone who followed us, or possibly just me.

Have I seen safety pins since I've been here?

Wait -- Mihael.

He flashed me just after I met him, and I would swear that I saw something silver around the inner hem of his skirt, then. I thought they were just holding the hem up at the time, but of course, in his situation... they could be used for protection.

Now that I think of it... when I met the child version of Mihael in the kitchen, we had a conversation, and cake, and then... I had a strange feeling when I was returning to the room, as if I was being followed. And -- that hallway was full of things that -- an adult couldn't hide behind them, but a child could -- if he didn't want to be seen --

This music is louder than it was when I left. This music... this music....

*He puts it all together, and groans*

Damn it, Light.

*With an irritated gesture, he reaches over to the laptop and clicks off the music. He sits on the bed for a moment, lost in thought, with his knees drawn up to his chin.*

Should I try to hunt them down? Clearly, the relationship between them is -- what it initially seemed, not what it seemed to become. Meile probably won't do anything to Light if Mihael doesn't want him to. So -- if I chase after them, it's likely that I'll walk in on -- something. I can deal with that, but -- how much trouble can Light actually get into, here?

A lot, it would seem. *sigh* But up until this point, most of it has been fighting with me or with Mihael. He demonstrably can't fight with me if we're not together, and he's obviously not fighting with Mihael at the moment -- so it may not be as bad as it could be --

Still, I told him that part of the reason for maintaining the handcuffs while we were here was concern for his safety -- I don't want anything unpleasant to happen to an unproven suspect in my custody, not until I can prove he's Kira -- and I thought -- I thought our rapport was beginning to improve again. Apparently that's not the case, so -- what next? I could go looking, or I could wait for him here. But if I wait, he may never come back -- I'll have to look for him eventually.

*He reaches over to the miniature refrigerator that serves as his nightstand in The Mansion, puts the sandwiches into it, takes out a snack cup of strawberry pudding and a spoon, and begins to eat the pudding after closing the door.*

Ahh, that's better.
If Yagami went with Mihael, then -- where might they have gone? I need to know more about the rooms in this place -- perhaps if I went to talk to the one with pink hair -- no, he's occupied right now; it might be difficult to find him, and even so, he probably can't help. Maybe. Amane has been here a while... yes, I should talk to Misa. She may have some idea.

But -- it might be better if I gave them some time, so that they might -- make themselves known, let themselves be seen. In the meantime --

*Suddenly, his eyes widen and he grins: he has had an idea. He reaches across the bed to the laptop computer, the one clearly left as a taunt, and pulls it closer to him, into his lap, stretching his legs out in front of him and balancing the computer on his knees. He looks at it carefully, then begins typing furiously, dealing with many files in succession, and smiling to himself.*

[[ooc: links to relevant threads to be added later!]]
firm_detective: (bitch are you for real?)
It has been most of a full day since the fight in the previous post.

A morose [livejournal.com profile] emo_raito lies in bed, refusing to get up; he is very far over to his own side, almost on the edge, although the bed itself is wide. He has, however, left room for his laptop computer, which is open in front of him. A close observer will note that, although his eyes are carefully pointed at the screen, he's actually just staring into space. Belle and Sebastian's "The Boy Done Wrong Again" blares from the computer's speaker. When it ends, it loops over and begins again.

Meanwhile, [livejournal.com profile] firm_detective is on his own side of the bed, crouched, with his back resting against the headboard. He's also staring at a laptop computer, one that rests on the mattress in front of him; he appears to be reading something. The top of the small refrigerator that passes for his nightstand is covered with a number of plastic snack cups, most of which formerly held chocolate pudding or fruit; there is also an empty frosting container. These have all been stacked to form a series of short towers.

Once in a while, his gaze flickers resentfully over to [livejournal.com profile] emo_raito's back. Every few times the song starts over, he sets his teeth, or takes a deep breath to stifle the words he wants to say.

Finally, he snaps, "If you continue to listen to that song for
another six hours, will it -- at some point -- become exponentially less grating?"
firm_detective: (annoyed)
[[Continuation of this thread in Misa's room, then this thread on the way back to this room. See previous posts for details. This thread is limited to [livejournal.com profile] emo_raito & [livejournal.com profile] firm_detective.]] 

L storms into the room, with Light necessarily close on his heels. Neither looks too good: Light's face has been bruised for a couple of days, and seems to be sprouting new bruises hourly, but L also has a bruise on his jaw. His expression is grim and he bristles with irritation.

They stop, and without turning around, L says to Light, "This time, you can make your own ice pack. I'll be busy with mine." His tone is quiet and dead.

triage

Apr. 20th, 2008 03:43 am
firm_detective: (kung-fu fighting)
[livejournal.com profile] firm_detective steps into the room described here, followed by [livejournal.com profile] emo_raito. Both look shaken. Light's face is even more bruised than it had been, and his nose is swollen and bleeding.

"I won't say that you didn't bring it upon yourself --" L begins, closing the door behind him.

(They have just come from this thread -- or, more particularly, this, or even more particularly, this.)

[[ooc -- this should fill in over the next 24 hours, probably. we're both too tired to continue with it tonight.]]
firm_detective: (sexy also lazy)
The room is large, and although there's a bed in it, it may not exactly be a "bedroom."

For one thing, bedrooms do not traditionally contain a bank of monitors. Most of the ones here are displaying static.

Below the monitors, there is a table, with two comfortable work chairs in front of it. There are three computers on top of the table, all late-model Macs (well, for September, 2004). Two are laptops, and a third is a desktop model with two monitors attached to it.  One of the laptops is conspicuously open, with iTunes displaying onscreen. The songs listed are mostly by artists like At the Drive-In, Belle and Sebastian, The Promise Ring, and Bright Eyes.

There is a bed in the room. It's large, more than large enough for two people. Its frame is intricate, with iron bars and swirls. There appears to be a nightstand on each side, but a close look will reveal the fact that one of these nightstands is actually a miniature refrigerator. Across the room from the foot of the bed, facing away from it, is a plush garnet velvet sofa; beyond it is a coffee table that coordinates with the bed.

An adjoining bathroom is luxurious (although not particularly distinguished), with dual sinks, a bathtub, and a shower stall. Both rooms are well-appointed with quality linens. The bed is covered in red velvet, and the sheets are black.

The bedroom floor is shiny, black-stained wood, with the occasional dark red flokati rug; the walls are dark charcoal grey. The bathroom has gold tumbled Travertine marble tiles on the floor and walls. But something is strange about this suite, aside from the many electronic screens: there are no windows.
firm_detective: (matter-of-fact)
We found the kitchen, thanks to the kindness of the Amane I've met here.

More pertinently, we found strawberry cheesecake. I did not, however, have much time to savor the strawberry cheesecake.

The German prostitute Mihael accompanied us to the kitchen. We conversed for a while; it was reasonably pleasant.

Interesting to have things in common with a prostitute: neither of us jumped through the common educational hoops, albeit for opposite reasons; we each started working at a young age; I was orphaned, and he might as well have been.

I enjoy nothing more than my work, though, and I do not have the impression that the same can be said for him, in spite of the fact that he's full of pride. 

Things turned unaccountably nasty when Yagami once again began to complain about his confinement, probably because Mihael was... sympathetic. Light went too far... not for the first time... but this time, I lost my temper.

At that point, Mihael went on the offensive, to the degree that I could have divulged every detail of the Kira case, and he still wouldn't have been satisfied with my reasoning.

So... I stopped talking. I'm not going to compromise my work with my own desire to win an argument. Others continued the conversation, and eventually, Mihael became frustrated, and left.

Now I'm just exhausted, and I want to try to find a bedroom where I can sleep... even better, where I can make a new base.

*

I'm hoping that there will be the satisfaction I anticipated in the resolution of this case, but my hopes for that kind of denouement decrease by the day.

Furthermore... physics now suggests to us that there are infinite parallel worlds, each created in the moment when one alternative is chosen over another, some with slight variations from our own, others incomprehensibly different. In this place, the worlds must somehow be overlapping: it's the only explanation for what I've seen that approaches the realm of the reasonable. 

I haven't spoken to a large number of people here, but one thing has become obvious: among the people I've met from a world where there is a Kira and I am Kira's pursuer, the end is the same every time. Light Yagami regains his memory of being Kira, gains his freedom, and achieves my death.

Now, in spite of what Amane said when she attempted to console me... I would be amazingly stupid to remove the handcuff, wouldn't I.
firm_detective: (matter-of-fact)
The days are spinning out in what seems like a few minutes each, and I still haven't found any cake (tea, pie, anything). The one with pink hair who seems to be me, though, gave me a jar of frosting. I'm tempted to break into it... but he did tell me that something he drank here turned his hair that color, so perhaps not.

On our seemingly endless way to the kitchen with the others, Light and I met a -- let's accept what we have in front of us, and say that we ran into Mello, and that Mello is a German prostitute. He flirted outrageously with both of us, more so with Yagami. Nothing to do but be amused.

Yagami. Well. He fights me every moment. 

It came out that he thinks I want him to be Kira because I'm out of ideas

To begin with -- I have never, for a single moment in my life, been "out of ideas." Not when I wanted to sleep at night, not when I wanted to kick back, relax, pay attention to a film, not when I was investigating a case. It's very simple. There are plenty of ideas, and I do nothing but sort through them and discard the wrong ones, until the right ones are left.

On top of that, while I would be much further from the solution to the Kira situation if I were not sure that Yagami had been acting as Kira, it is not the solution I "want." It's difficult to explain to someone of his age and experience, but what I "want" has little to do with what is or is not the solution to a case. I don't win by being right; I win by wrapping up a case. (The fact that the two things are mutually inclusive is a happy coincidence.)

This case is personally problematic. 

The Japanese authorities want the death penalty for Kira. If we can't get a confession, possibly life imprisonment... more likely not. It's my place to avoid attachments to the people I investigate. But I can see that Soichiro Yagami is a good man, sincere in his desire to help solve the case. His wife and daughter seem resolutely normal. 

I have spent more time than I care to tally observing Light Yagami. Every clue points to him in an almost inexorable line; the question is how (something this place is giving me ideas about). And why does he seem to have no memory of it? 

It's not just that he's difficult to crack; in both his case and Amane's, there seems to be nothing to crack... as if someone swapped their innocent doubles onto the world's stage just as I closed in on their guilt. Even Yagami's mannerisms are different, since his imprisonment.

Is it justice -- or, as I have sometimes said, kindness -- to send a promising young man to his death, when he has no recollection of his crimes? What does that do for the world? Winning under those circumstances would not feel like winning, even if I am absolutely certain of my conclusions.

If the Yagami family is destroyed, it won't be through my actions -- it will be through Light's. 

But still, I want to be very certain that those are actions he has committed. So I watch him, and watch him, and try to understand.
firm_detective: (matter-of-fact)
It's always so frustrating -- depressing -- when I can't explain something to my satisfaction. This is the world. L knows what is going on. He can explain it to you... after he explains it to himself. That's how I live. Yet somehow... I'm not there yet.

I woke up here, in an empty, carpeted room... I don't know how long ago it was, time passes in fits and starts. It seems I hit my head when Yagami clocked me. But he claims I knocked him out with my returning kick... it's strange, since he's been here longer than me, by a day or so.

Soon enough, people -- and other things -- began to talk to me. It rapidly became clear to me that the best course of action would be to accept what I saw and heard and felt and glean what information I could.

Of course, the first person I ran into was Light Yagami. He had slipped his restraints somehow, so I recaptured him, dealing with the ensuing sulking. It's imperative that I keep an eye on him... not only is he my suspect, he's also my responsibility.

As is to be expected, where Light Yagami goes, Misa Amane follows... except this is not the Amane I know. This new Misa seems more serious, less egocentric. I must admit that the change is not unwelcome.

Most surprising, then, was that I met myself... but not me. His hair is a color that mine only was once, briefly, for a case I solved easily several years ago -- but he's familiar with the Kira case. He told me more about where he believes we are: in a mansion, somewhere, somehow, with mysterious properties. I'll believe them when I see them. From him, I learned that there may be many versions here of the people I might know; furthermore, they might be unlike themselves. This fits what I've seen.

I then met a strange young man, about my age, who seems to be an adult version of a boy who I know to currently reside at Wammy's House. His world is criminal, and I doubt that his life has been a happy one, but he has an insouciant charm. He says that he never lived at Wammy's, and that in his world, there is no well-known detective named L.

Finally, I met a shinigami named Rem, a grave creature who guards Misa Amane like her own child. I think I reacted appropriately. Rem seems reserved, and does not approve of Yagami, though I assured her that the Light I know is currently no danger to Amane at all. 

Amane related dreams to me, things she hadn't experienced, that sound all too much like what I know to be true. It didn't sound like they boded well for me... but then, neither does this headache.

Everything I hear from all of these people, even if they only turn out to have been thoughts in my own convalescent head,  convinces me that I am correct about the identity of Kira... but I have also caught hints that there's more to it. Anyway, I can't do anything without real evidence. What I have now is a circumstantial case pointing to an unlikely suspect.

I would really like some tea, now. At least six lumps of sugar. Black Forest cake, jam tarts, something to help me think. If I were in my own place, any of them, there would be a kindly old man to bring something to me if I asked... I miss him. He's the closest thing to a father I can remember having.

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May 2012

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