savetheearth | Network | Text, Typed.

[L is admittedly a little surprised to see that Cesar is Numbered again, and admittedly, he is no fan of the timing. In the long term, he's actually started to accomplish and succeed at big things. In the short term, he's shockingly weak at the moment, recovering from pneumonia severe enough to spike a delirious fever and inflame both lungs.

Cesar serves as a painful reminder of what he considers his worst ever failure, and he almost wants to hide him the same way he wants to hide his current condition from all but his most trusted associates.]

You're back? How have you been?

Edited (Tablet = typos) 2014-12-18 15:51 (UTC)

*Cesar's eyes linger on the message for a long few seconds. It had never been a question over whether L would message him: it had only been a matter of time.*

*The message is switched to a private string without comment.*

Better than the last time we spoke. I've adapted. Started a new job.

Yourself?

So your recovery went as well as it could have. Who are you working for now?

[Forced small-talk on the surface, but it serves a purpose. L wants to find out if Cesar holds a grudge, and if it's safe to trust him the way he's come to trust so many others on the Network as he's stepped up over the last two months.]

I'm fine. I've discovered a talent for coordination and cooperative efforts.

Edited (html faaaaail) 2014-12-18 18:50 (UTC)

Panacea Pharmaceutical Technologies. It's a big jump, I know.

Really? That's very good, how did you find that out? Are you expanding Espresso Yourself?

*Have fun trying to gage that, Lazarus. Cesar sincerely seems friendlier, but then, he's always been one for putting up fronts.*

It's a very big change. Is it one that is motivated by personal factors?

[Do broken people go into medical fields in the hopes that they can be fixed?]

We'd spoken of it before. As much as I wish I was, I am not nearly as effective alone as I am with a support system. This is true for most men.

[If you say it's a lesson I should have learned sooner, I will know for certain that you are bitter.]

Probably not the factors you're thinking of. You'll find out anyway, but I've taken an interest in nanites. Being mute doesn't generally cause that sort of a change.

It's a universal truth. Something besides Espresso Yourself, then?

[It's true; he would find out anyway. He was, in fact, preparing to in the event that he was rebuffed. L frowns slightly, and is distracted from the text conversation by a particularly violent coughing fit. A few minutes later, he responds, glad that this isn't in person; he is a mess.]

What does cause that sort of a change? A pulse, maybe?

[Too personal? Too obvious? L thinks that Cesar knows him well enough to be familiar with his unbalanced question-to-answer ratio in conversations, and it's a common enough question among the Numbered, what have your Pulses done to you now?]

You're aware that there have been other Mafia attacks. Espresso Yourself was a recent target, and we were able to head off the attack and get the police on the scene. Twelve of Albero's people were identified and all but one of them was taken into police custody. Because we knew about the attack ahead of time, Shou and I were able to move Project Jump to a new, safer location.

*Too personal, too obvious, and far, far too familiar: Cesar has played this game with him before. He suspects by now that the fastest way through the conversation is to give him what he wants, be pleasant enough to hide what is sensitive, and leave as few holes for L to come back around over later. L is naturally nosy, but if Cesar can hold up a pleasantly unresponsive front long enough--he's building a wall to keep from even engaging the man. Winning the war by conceding every battle, keeping L from finding what actually hits.*

Yes, actually. I took notes on echoed nanite designs shortly before my disappearance.

It worked out well for me in the end.

Eleven out of twelve? Wow. That is impressive.

I know I read about this in the news, but I hadn't known about Project Jump. I'm glad it was moved in time.

Edited 2014-12-19 16:22 (UTC)

[L despises "pleasantly unresponsive." He learned how in White Pines and has been adept at it ever since; he prefers annoyance and outright hostility to "pleasantly unresponsive", because at least with the former two, he is assured of making a meaningful impact, knowing more about a person than he did before.

Is he in any shape to be pushing buttons right now? Let's find out.]

Twelve out of twelve, if you count the one whose own foolishness killed him. And we're glad it was moved in time, as well; since their aim was arson it could have severely crippled us.

[L's doing this a lot more lately, saying "we" and "us" rather than "I" and "me." He's not sure when it started, or how; maybe it has something to do with the fact that a cause has slowly but surely become a lot more important to him than his ego. As long as an objective is achieved, who cares who gets the credit for it? It's probably one of the most notable ways he's matured.]

Nanites? That's advanced technology. Was your Other some kind of scientist?

Edited (edit for too tiny text ) 2014-12-19 17:06 (UTC)

Twelve out of twelve. Was anyone else hurt?

I get the impression that he was, though it's hard to be sure.

Edited 2014-12-19 18:29 (UTC)

None of ours.

[On that particular occasion, anyway. The fiasco that had been taking down Albero was a different story; though it had run smoothly behind the scenes, there had certainly been some unexpected wrinkles, and ultimately the entire affair was something of a PR disaster. But a lot of people had been on board with it, and if anyone was likely to take the fall for it, it would be Nick.]

Natural progression of logic suggests that, working in pharmaceuticals, you have access to ways to develop your nanites further. The applications for such things are virtually limitless, aren't they?

[Stay the course.]

Edited 2014-12-19 18:35 (UTC)

Theoretically they are. The reality is limited by current technology and manufacturing infrastructure.

Edited 2014-12-19 18:45 (UTC)

Scientists push those limits, though. It's practically in the job description. Theoretically you wouldn't be embarking on any sort of project without a goal in mind, would you?

*... How can such pointedly innocent questions be this irritating? It's like a slowly tightening chokehold. Cesar deliberately doesn't rush through his response.*

I plan to see how far I can push this technology, yes.

It could be revolutionary to everything we know about medicine delivery, and perhaps more. Imagine nanite-aided manufacturing. Imagine fractal art in 3D, formed by programmed algorithms.

*'What are you getting at?' he's itching to ask, but he holds back. L will tell him in time, and he doesn't want to seem overly defensive--not when he finally has nothing to hide.*

Edited 2014-12-19 18:55 (UTC)

[L has that way about him; even his unstrained relationships with people can be complicated with the tendency he has of putting them on the spot.]

Isn't it amazing how a Pulse can change so much? It's admirable that you're not letting what Albero's people did to you slow down your newfound ambition.

*... Oh... That's what this is. Anger stirs like simmering coals in his gut, and Cesar smothers it, taking even longer to reply than before.*

I'm glad that you think so.

We all react to loss in different ways. My way is to take on more work.

[The length of time does not go unnoticed.]

It's not just that I think so. I know exactly how it is. Taking on more work is how I deal with loss and failure, too.

Edited 2014-12-21 07:06 (UTC)

Then we have that in common.

What about your projects? You've been handling Espresso Yourself and guardianship of Project Jump?

Among other things, I think. My projects? There are a lot of them. Some are more important than others. Some are not important at all. Project Jump would cripple us if it was compromised. Though circumstances surrounding it were sad, I am not unhappy that the network leak is gone.

*Cesar sits up in his seat, feeling something cold slip into his veins. Questions jump towards his fingers like hungry wolves; he has to force himself to couch the most important ones as though they don't matter.*

That's how it goes.

Gone? They found the leak?

I thought you knew. I mean... I thought you'd have to know about it, given what I'd assume to be a vested interest in knowing who sold out your brother and potentially you as well.

This happened while I was gone.

What happened?

*Congratulations, L, you have his attention: The message came with no delay at all. Cesar doesn't even re-read it, unable to wait, and hating the feeling that he's following this conversation on L's terms.*

[That lack of a delay prompts rather a long one on L's end. Cesar might or might not feel every second of it.]

This might come as a shock to you, then. It turns out that Chuck was leaking names to the Mafia; another detective alerted me. We kept it secret then and I specifically asked not to be involved from that point forward; as we've discussed, I couldn't have handled the situation with the restraint it required. It's no matter now, though. Chuck is gone, and met a sorry end. Maybe worse than what I could have done even at my most sadistic.

Edited 2014-12-22 04:41 (UTC)

*Every second lasts hours. Cesar doesn't look away. When the message finally arrives--*

*--'A shock' doesn't even cover it. It's an anvil to the gut, an entire lake of icy water pouring past him.*

*He almost can't type fast enough.*

What doyou mean? What happened, specifically?

And how did you find out any of this in the first place? He was the Numbered's source of information, not a mole.

Edited 2014-12-22 04:51 (UTC)

Specifically? I guess you are invested in this. My condolences. As I said, another detective told me. We work together sometimes and share notes. Perhaps I shouldn't say more than that.

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