savetheearth | Burned All My Notebooks, They Won't Help Me Survive [Closed]

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Burned All My Notebooks, They Won't Help Me Survive [Closed]

Who: Lazarus Lawliet, Ray Zimmerman, and Belle Goldman
When: Tuesday evening, March 25
Where: Lazarus and Belle's apartment
What: Weird lights in the sky or not, life must go on. L and Ray discuss rebuilding Espresso Yourself, and Belle continues to wonder what the hell she got herself into when she let Lazarus move in with her.
Warnings: People in this log have a few issues? Will update if any of them get intense.

The last few days had been a whirlwind of possibility, opportunity, and the upheaval that the entire city had shared in. The large, pure gold ingot Belle had echoed back had sold to some of L's "friends" for an incredible amount of money, all of which was currently in a duffle bag in his room, stuffed in the closet along with the camera, magnetic encoder, teslin paper, pouch laminator, and everything else he'd gathered to make fake IDs. For someone who had wanted to go into law enforcement once upon a time, L was admittedly dipping his warped fingers into some questionable pies.

The day before, he'd put on his nicest clothes, tugged a comb through his hair, and gone to a car dealership recommended to him by Mack. He'd found a Honda Civic almost identical to Belle's old one, purchased it on the spot and had it delivered to the house this morning. To make sure Belle didn't miss that the car was hers, he tied the keys to her shampoo bottle, along with a note.

Can you make dinner for me and my friend tonight? Breaking one Kosher rule is OK as long as it's not pork.

-L

Hoping that she'd said yes, and noting with satisfaction that the keys and note were both gone when he woke up, L prepared for Ray's arrival.

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This was the first time Ray had gone anywhere by himself since he'd gotten out of the hospital, and boy howdy was he already regretting it. Not that he minded visiting L, he was perfectly cool with that, but he hated taking the bus. Public transportation was a bitch, especially when one had a bum knee, a busted arm, and other injuries that hadn't fully healed yet. STILL, he'd been going absolutely battynuggets being cooped up in the apartment with his own less than positive thoughts for so long. As painful as it was, maybe getting out would be good for him.

Maybe.

He'd arrived a little later than he had intended, but he still made it. Small victories, right. He knocked on the door. Ooooh shit tonight don't go all awkwardly.

L answered the door, looking pale and drawn with some of the bruises from the collapse still standing out lividly against his skin tone. He glanced Ray up and down.

"Hi. Come in... are you OK?" he opened the door fully to admit his former manager, feeling a pang of guilt asking, since Ray's injuries were pretty obvious and they were largely in part to having been in the way after pushing L out of it.

"You seem kind of stressed..."

An understatement, maybe, since he knew full well coming over that L had obtained an insane amount of money through dubious means and it was in the apartment right now.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Well no he wasn't, but he didn't want to make L feel bad about asking him to come over. He limped his little ass in when L opened the door for him and glanced around.

"Eh. I'm always stressed. The only time I'm not stressed is when I'm sleeping. I haven't had a cigarette since..."

Since all that horrible shit happened that Ray didn't really want to bring up.

"It's been a while, anyway."

L closed the door slowly after him, watching Ray doubtfully as he limped pitifully into the neat, well-kept apartment that had definitely seen a woman's touch.

"Are you not allowed? For recovery, I mean... if it's your choice, I support that, but if you're not actually planning to give it up... I'd hardly be the person to judge, you know?"

He trailed after him, biting his lip.

"So, I've been working on how to legitimately 'earn' that money. Obviously if we start spending it, it'll be suspicious. I thought about asking you to file a workers compensation lawsuit with me, since the coffee shop literally fell on our heads and we were both injured, but... then it occurred to me that I could just... well, inherit the money. As of this morning, it's mine, completely legitimately."

Ray made his way for the nearest seat and plunked his butt down in it. Holy balls he hadn't even done much traveling but he was already exhausted.

"I'm quitting. I need to quit. Need to get my life in order, y'know? Figured I'd start with something small like this and see where it goes from there."

But, on to why he was here in the first place. He listened to L, rubbing his chin in thought. And realizing that he hadn't shaved in a couple days. Shit, he must have looked like a mess. Aaaand he was letting his mind wander. Double shit.

"What's that mean, as of this morning? You've had it longer than that, haven't you?"

"Yeah... believe me, I know."

L ran a hand through his shaggy hair, looking exhausted, but wholly focused on the matter at hand.

"I've had the money since the night of the 23rd, but I didn't have a great uncle who left me everything before then. As of this morning, I did, and every cent was a part of his lucrative estate. I was up until 4:00 AM last night creating him."

"You're. Forging people. I. Oh my God. I can't. Words. I have no words. is this illegal? There's no way this isn't illegal."

Ooooh goodness what was Ray getting himself into.

It was kind of cool.

"It's for a higher purpose," L said. "Accommodating echoes can't always be taken care of with a hat or a pair of contact lenses. There are numbered people who need new IDs, and new social security numbers to go with them, and if I can provide those... I'd be a monster not to, right? I just extended that service to Mr. Yefim Lyalyushkin, deceased."

"Well yeah, okay, that's legit and all, but I'm dating a cop." Ray paused and pinched the bridge of his nose in that Oh God what is even happening anymore sort of way and slouched spectacularly in his seat.

"I mean, I'm not gonna say anything, but this puts me in a really weird position."

"I talked to your boyfriend. He's a nice guy," L said thoughtfully. "Even if his romantic advice wasn't very helpful. If he's a cop, he knows that he's working for a corrupt system that's rotting from the inside. A corrupt system that allowed Sherman to intimidate and threaten you, his boyfriend, who is in danger; you're looking less human lately. When my grandfather fled Europe in 1933 he was looking less human. Laws change because people make them; I'm just committing myself to right and wrong, and sleeping pretty well as a result."

Ray doesn't know how to really reply to that at first, besides maybe something along the lines of 'no shit I look less human I'm turning into an alien', but that's not what L was talking about, was it. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he could guess that it wasn't a good thing.

"I don't... know. Like, how I feel about anything. But you know what, fuck it. If you think this'll help, then I'm not gonna knock it."

"This will help. That's what my life is for, now. Every echo I get only confirms it further. So... thank you. I promise that it won't harm you in any way, and that as the co-owner, you'll have no less than 50% of the proceeds, even if you eventually have to go into hiding. And you can have that in writing."

"I don't think I'll have to go into hiding. All those bogus charges against me have been dropped. Still have to pay a few parking tickets, though. Wow, this is kind of a weird conversation."

"There's a kid who's turning into a bird, and another who's turning into a corpse," L said, unruffled; he had a lot of weird conversations, in all fairness. "I rule nothing out, and that's all I mean.

"...do you want me to take care of those parking tickets? I bet I could."

"Right, the zombie guy. Oh God, just thinking about it creeps me out. Poor bastard."

Ray looks positively baffled by the offer. For some reason. He's easily baffled.

"Wh-no, no way. I couldn't ask you to do that. Fuck no. I need to pay those myself. Part of that whole getting my life in order thing."

"Anthony's one of the more unfortunate people, yes. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that any of us might be on our way to becoming something out of a horror movie, which is... kind of an obstacle toward any of us getting our lives in order. As for the tickets... I can respect that, of course."

"This whole thing is just a.... Mess. It's a fucking mess. I've been tempted to get the hell out of town a few times, but I'm a stubborn asshole so that's not likely to happen."

"I wouldn't even consider going into business with someone who wasn't a stubborn asshole," L said, shrugging lightly. "And if it's a mess now, you can be assured that it's only going to get worse. Fortunately, I've recently echoed back the ability to clean up some kinds of messes, which is a sight more useful than speaking Russian, Japanese suicide notes and tennis racquets."

"Your echos are scary." Ray hadn't meant to just blurt that out, but fuck it. It was out. "Scary and weird. Just throwing that out there. But you know what, I'm glad my habit of being a stubborn asshole can be useful in some capacity."

L blinked, startled at the blunt assessment.

"Yes, they're scary," he agreed quietly. "And I'm scared. But if I don't act, and use what I've been given... I'm just a coward, and too much of my life has gone that way already. I like you because you weren't the type to run away, even before any of this started."

Ray's a blunt asshole it happens.

"Scary or not, at least you got something useful back. But you know what, I'll take the compliments. An ego boost is pretty cool right now."

"Do you want to see the money?" L asked, starting toward his room at a quick shuffle. "I haven't been to the bank yet, for obvious reasons... I had to sort out the social security stuff first, but I'll take care of it as soon as possible so it's not just... here, waiting to be stolen. Or found by my roommate, which would be equally difficult."

"...How the hell does your roommate not know about something like that? That's crazy."

Ray wasn't sure if L wanted him to follow or what, so he just stood up and kind of hung around awkwardly for a moment.

"She doesn't come in my room. She knows it's not appropriate to invade my privacy. She probably knows about the car I bought her, since it was gone this morning and I can only assume she drove it, but I'm thinking she'll be satisfied with that and not ask about what else they gave me. Other than... well, you know."

He paused.

"You can follow, I don't keep a live tiger."

"I don't know about her, but if someone bought me a car out of nowhere I think I'd be pretty curious. but then, I'm a nosy asshole, so."

Oh goody. Ray hobbled after L. He missed sitting already, but a giant bag full of money was totally worth getting off his ass and seeing.

"You should get one. You could totally afford it."

"I've never kept a pet. I'm actually not excellent at taking care of myself, so I'd hate to inflict my wanton negligence on an innocent animal. Besides... tigers aren't meant to live in apartments, and then my roommate would kick me out."

He opened the door to his room; it was fairly simple, a corkboard with the Japanese suicide note L had mentioned pinned to it. A hook on the wall held both a simple bamboo staff and a pro-quality tennis racquet, and his laptop rested on a desk that was relatively clean and clear. Several notebooks were on a shelf.

Opening the closet was a different story; it was crammed with equipment ranging from magnetic encoders to cameras to laminators, and the duffle bag in question was there, positively overflowing with bricks of cash.

"I'll probably take at least some of it to the bank, soon," he said with a shrug. "It's not safe keeping this much around the house, and it kind of defeats the purpose of my roommate wanting me to get rid of her piece of gold."

"I was totally kidding about the tiger, y'know."

Ray just stared at the contents of L's closet for a moment. He honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was like something out of a movie. One of those action movies with some big name actor like Bruce Willis and explosions.

"...Mother of God."

Yeah that was all Ray had to say about it for a second.

"So... So wait. She just gave you a chunk of gold and told you to get rid of it? Why the hell didn't she cash in on that?"

"She was afraid, and probably for good reason. When there's a sizable gold find, the United States government frequently claims that gold was stolen around the same time. It's all very convenient," he said dryly, leaning against the closet door and nudging a cash brick with his bare foot.

"Luckly, I know people who can move this amount, even if they're kind of... not always the best friends. They came through for us, and life's about to start."

"No shit? Guess I just don't pay attention to that sorta thing."

Ray doesn't take his eyes off the giant bag of money. It's still just completely unreal to him.

"I'll be honest. I don't know how I feel about using money that came from people like that. I mean, obviously it's your money but... I dunno, man. Weird moral conundrum. Maybe I shouldn't think too much about it."

"Mack... the guy who's 'in charge', for all intents and purposes... he's got two kids, and a dog. He doesn't coach Little League or anything, but he's just a man outside of his job. He's probably bought coffee from you a few times; in this case, he bought gold from me, and I see no difference. That puts it to rest for me. So... you mentioned a location change. Where were you thinking?"

Ray still doesn't like it, but he's really not in any position to complain. Moving on, though, he hadn't really even thought of where he'd like the new shop to be. There had been a lot on his mind lately.

"I... I don't know. Just somewhere else. Not where it was."

Belle was, to say the least, flustered about the current circumstances. Finding the new car that looked so similar to her old one parked in her spot in place of the rented Volkswagon had felt like some sort of bizarre dream. The invoice sitting folded neatly on the steering wheel stating that it had been paid for in full didn't help the illusion much.

It wasn't until she was halfway to work that it all sunk in abruptly. Lazarus, who was barely able to shop for himself, had bought her a car. Not just that, but he, apparently, had planned on bringing company home that evening to her apartment with the promise of a dinner she had not been given time to plan or prepare for.

By the time she arrived home, it was with the ingredients to make a shepherd's pie (deeming it to be both an inoffensive and quickly-made dish) and a lot of questions in mind for her housemate...

"So, a fresh start. I can get behind that. And what about the name? I actually like 'Espresso Yourself'... but I also like puns, and I know that a lot of people hate them. Our target demographic is hipsters, though, so it might be better to go for cheesy."

"I'm not sure about the name. I don't have a problem with the old one, but I guess if we can come up with something better we can roll with that too."

When L heard the door, he quickly excused himself, leaving Ray with the option to remain behind with the huge bag of money or follow.

"Ms. Goldman, did you get my note about dinner?" he asked, peering out of his room.

"If there's no problem with the old name, then we shouldn't change it," L reasoned, chewing on his thumbnail. "There were loyal customers who will continue to patronize us and we shouldn't underestimate the value of a built-in client base. Starting from scratch would be much harder."

As his head poked out into the hallway, it took some effort to refrain from immediately rifling a line of questioning off at him.

"I did." she said, keeping her tone level. "Are they here now...?"

If so, probably best to refrain from saying anything until they were gone....which was probably exactly why he'd arranged things this way.

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Burned All My Notebooks, They Won't Help Me Survive [Closed]

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