savetheearth | [open] Fourth Wall 1

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[open] Fourth Wall 1

Who: EVERYONE including visitors
What: This is the first general post for the fourth wall. This post is for network posts/conversations, logs and every other possible interaction, and visitors can top-level.
When: 2nd of January
Where: Everywhere inside the five echo boundaries.
Warnings: Please warn in the subject line of your threads if anything comes up!

Fourth Wall OOC information! As a reminder: Visitors may tag all posts tagged "-fourth wall" that are posted on

savetheearth.

Special things happening today: A sudden surge in Vermini and Vermedi activity! Some of them are aggressive towards the numbered and will attack, but some seem rather interested in herding or baiting people with numbers towards other people with numbers... They clearly want as many numbered as possible to be together or at least not be alone today.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kyahhh! Stop it!

[Misa has no idea where she is or where she is headed as she stumbles forward, urged on by a small group of Vermini that have taken to buzzing around her, poking and prodding when she veers away from wherever they want her to go. Misa swats at them ineffectually, squealing unhappily every time one of the hairy things touches her.]

Get away, you little weirdos! Eek!!

[One trouble after another. The high-pitched sound of a girl's voice in a considerable amount of distress catches L's attention, and he sighs when he sees the source. She's being herded in a specific direction, and it happens to coincide with their paths crossing. Lovely. He raises his ice stave slightly; the creatures are small enough that freezing their feet in place is ridiculously easy.]

You're lucky they weren't attacking you. That's been happening today, too, and is considerably more difficult to deal with.

What do you call this?!

[It seems an awful lot like attacking to her. After briefly looking L up and down Misa quickly scurries behind him. The pale, skinny man with bags under his eyes hardly looks like a hero, but as he seems to be the only other person here she takes what she can get. Grabbing the back of his shirt to make sure he stays between her and the hairy bug-men, Misa tentatively peeks out from behind L to see why they are no longer attacking.]

What are those?

[He snorts slightly.]

Poking? Jabbing? Not attacking.

[He stiffens when she circles him and hides behind his scrawny frame, clinging to his clothes like some kind of stereotypical damsel in distress.]

Those are Vermedi. Some of them are aggressive, but I can take care of them if they get too close.

Why are you out here, anyway? It's dangerous for people without powers.

[Misa grumbles under her breath that poking and jabbing totally count as attacking, but once she notices the frozen feet of her attackers she lets the topic drop. This is far more interesting.]

You have powers?

[She lets go of his shirt and steps out beside him, glancing from him to the Vermedi and back again. He doesn't look like the kind of person who would have powers, or anything special like that--but that just makes the discovery more of an exciting scoop!]

How? What else can you do?

My stave has powers. So did the person who made it for me.

[He holds the long bamboo rod pointedly.]

So... yes, for all intents and purposes.

[He seems close, though, when she asks about what else he can do.]

Can your questions wait until we're someplace a little safer? This isn't carte blanche to drop your guard completely, you know.

Aha, that explains it! So it's this other person who really has the powers. Who is he?

[Realizing that she should avoid antagonizing her savior too much, Misa smiles as charmingly as she can.]

We can walk and talk!

[She's got a very charming smile. Lazarus would have wondered if she was flirting with him, if their situation was a little more mundane. As it is, there's more pressing things to worry about than not looking like an imbecile in front of a pretty girl.]

Make it a brisk walk. Come on.

[He turns on his heel, marching off at a brisk pace. Espresso Yourself, the coffee shop he owns, is a Numbered haven and fairly nearby; he decides to take her there.]

Okay, okay!

[Misa has to jog to keep up with his longer strides, but she puts off complaining until she has more answers.]

Come on, who's the one with the powers? What's he like?

Edited (extreme icon picker wonkiness o_o) 2015-01-05 06:18 (UTC)

[He's certainly off at a fast clip, and with ten inches of height on her, his legs are far longer anyway.]

While I commend your curiosity, it's not really the time or place. Suffice it to say that he was a good friend of mine but he's no longer with us. His work, however, has outlasted his involvement with our cause, and for that I'll always be grateful.

Just who are you?

[The question might be brusque, but he doesn't ask in a snappish tone, so at least there's that.]

Misa Amane, investigative reporter and fashion consultant!

[With that answer rattled off, she goes right back to her previous line of questions.]

Are you saying that he died? What cause was he involved in? Was it related to his disappearance?

[Oh, great, a reporter.]

How much do you know about the Numbered? If you're a reporter, it must be a fair amount, we're on the news a lot. And he didn't die, to my knowledge, but just as we get our Numbers, we can lose them.

[His pace slows just enough to show her the palm of one hand.]

This is my Number.

Whoa!

[Misa grabs his hand immediately, leaning in for a closer look and attempting to run her fingers over the numbers.]

Well, I'm not technically a reporter on this case, but I've been reading about it! I'm here to learn more. So tell me about this! Does everyone get a tattoo?

[He stiffens at her touch, and it's not just because he's not the type of person to shy away from contact. Not far from his palm is the beginning of an ugly, deep scar running along the underside of his forearm.

No! I got the tattoo, to show that I wasn't afraid at a time when showing solidarity was very important. It's a statement. Some of my friends don't "blend in".

[He pulls his hand away, tugging his sleeve down to the heel of his hand.]

We're almost there, keep moving, please.

[And in fact, there's a brick coffee shop on the next street corner, called Espresso Yourself. It's a well-known Numbered hub and hipster haunt.]

[Misa notices the beginning of an abnormality on Lazarus's wrist a moment before he pulls his hand away. While it sparks her curiosity, she notes his increasing agitation and decides to pretend that she didn't see a thing. For now.]

That's pretty brave of you!

[She hurries to keep up once again, recognition dawning on her as they approach the coffee shop.]

Ah! I've heard of this place! We can talk more in there?

We can do whatever we want here. I own this business.

[Said with just a touch of haughtiness. Lazarus is proud of what he's built and accomplished in just one year.]

And once they're inside, he turns and locks the door, turning the open sign over and signaling to the people behind the counter to turn off the lights and wait in the back.]

The couches in the back corner are out of view of the windows. This probably isn't completely necessary, but it can't be less safe than what's going on outside. If you want coffee, you can help yourself to the blends in the pots.

[Misa grows increasingly uneasy as she suddenly finds herself locked in a dark building with a stranger, who can probably freeze her if she tries to escape. What seemed like an amazing opportunity moments before now seems more like the beginning to a news report that ends with "authorities have yet to find a body."]

Th-this seems pretty over the top! I just came here to talk!

[She glances back toward where the employees exited, wondering if they can be counted on to rescue her from her rescuer. The way they made themselves scarce with nothing more than a gesture from Lazarus makes her think that he must have done this before, which doesn't bode well. She tries to be nonchalant about reaching a hand into her purse in search of her cell phone and pepper spray, just in case.]

I've talked to reporters before, but it's got to be on my terms. That's just how it is. You're welcome to leave, if you've changed your mind, but if you want to stay here, where no one's going to bother us and nothing is coming through those doors, you're going to have to respect my desire to maintain some level of discretion.

I have to protect the people who work for me. Exposure to the media is always a risk, and if any of them want to join us, it'll be their call, not mine, and definitely not yours.

[Misa hesitates, but determination eventually wins out over self preservation. She cautiously walks over to take a seat on the couch, hand still on the small canister of pepper spray hidden in her purse.]

You don't have to take this as seriously as that. I just came here out of curiosity. Even if I write something, there's no guarantee it's going to be published.

[But it could be her big break. That's worth spending some time with a potential serial killer, isn't it?]

[L's eyes stray to her purse, where her hand is hidden. It doesn't take a genius to see that she's nervous, or to entertain the possibility that she might be armed. If she's carrying a concealed handgun, he could be in trouble.]

If you knew how my year's been, I think you'd be a little more... understanding. In October, one of my employees was shot and killed here in broad daylight.

[An employee pokes a furtive head out of the back room.]

"Is everything OK, sir? L?"

[He nods, eyes still on Misa's purse.]

Yes, it's fine. Tell everyone to take 15.

[Misa opens her mouth to comment on how terrible it is that someone was killed, but with the employee's interruption that train of thought shuts off and all she can think of is L. Why does it sound so familiar? There's something, the fuzzy ghost of a memory--she doesn't recall when or where she witnessed it, but it's there. An ornate, black letter 'L' broadcasting across her TV screen. A scrambled, digitized voice. It said something, what was... the voice was L, and it said... 'I am justice.']

L...

[In her preoccupation with the hazy memory her hand loosens, and Misa absently draws it out of her purse (leaving weapon and phone behind). Answers are what matter most. Throwing caution to the wind is all part of being a serious journalist.]

[Looking up, Misa squints at Lazarus's face as if seeing him for the first time.]

I know that name... You're L?

Edited 2015-01-06 23:30 (UTC)

[Something about the quality of comprehension dawning isn't mere recognition of a nickname he uses on the network and within the Numbered community. It's on a different level, one he's grown accustomed to recognizing in over a year of receiving pulses.]

Yes, that's me. Numbered call me that. I thought that only Numbered used it, though... I thought you were, but you should have said so immediately.

[He assumes that she's seen the Network and therefore his nickname, but just hasn't gotten a chance to introduce herself on it yet.]

You'll get us to open up to you far easier if you just come out and say you're Numbered too, from the get-go.

[Misa tilts her head, confused both by the mysterious memory and L's words.]

Numbered? No, no, I'm not one of you. I just...

[She shakes her head, as if trying to clear it.]

I don't remember when it happened, but an L showed up on TV once, and this weird voice talked about justice. Was that really you?

[His dark eyes go wide at what she's said.]

Not me, no. But I know what you're talking about, because I got that back, too. It has to do with my Other; the guy I'm getting all of these new pieces of myself from. We... might have something in common, more than most Numbered have.

[While uncertain how to feel about having something in common with this strange, lanky man, Misa decides to see if Lazarus thinking so will make him divulge information more easily.]

Like what? What exactly is an 'other'?

Misa Amane (AU) | Death Note | OTA

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