Entry #A-9: "Albatross" [Audio, Action for Employees or Anyone who would drop by ]

[dead_black_eyes]

[L sounds pretty calm and detached, as per usual. Rather than sounding natural, though, there's a vaguely forced quality to that calmness.]

Unfortunately, Espresso Yourself will be closed for the next few days, to reopen on Thursday of next week. I regret the inconvenience for employees and regular customers.

[He finishes recording the message, lowering his phone and staring at what happened to his business over the course of just one night. The espresso machine is smashed to pieces, and the cash register is open with the empty drawer chucked across the room. The mural painted by Solana is tarnished with anti-numbered slurs and threatening graffiti asserting the control of "Albero's Family" within Locke City.

Glass from the broken windows and the vandalized bar crunches under the soles of his converse sneakers as he drags a chair across the floor, grappling with a pair of wire cutters. It's enough of a problem that his grip is clumsy, but his hands are also shaking; though the features of the mannequin hanging from a noose in front of the mural are blank and generic, the large letter "L" carved into its chest is a message that's difficult to miss.]

Comments

[scramasax]

[Quick, polite "Thank you, sir -- 'sorry if it's inconvenient... -- "

He hears someone opening the door and turns his head up to attention - and then he hears the door, and the simple unexpectedness of it sends a crawling under his shoulders, he edges a step back automatically -

Then a flat crash and shattering crash shoots that both ways vertical into rigidity and his nerves ringing like a whack to a bell.]

Was that - was that -- was that the door...?!

[dead_black_eyes]

[L takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before answering.]

Yes, that was the door. I'll add it to the long list of things that need to be fixed by Thursday. It's long enough that it won't look much longer...

[He sits down on the edge of the front step, resting his forehead against the back of his stiff, cramping hand.]

It'll get fixed, though. My deadlines don't slip past me, no matter how ambitious they are.

[scramasax]

Uh -- how -- what...

["What's broken?"

The door is broken. There is a long list of things to be fixed, says L. "What happened?" is utterly useless to what he'd been given clearance to come by for.

Trailing:]

What's the damage...?

[dead_black_eyes]

[That's right... so much has been going on, and so many people have contacted L, that he'd forgotten Anthony didn't know much about what had actually happened.

The zombie had a way of looking morose, and L didn't particularly want to distress him further at any given time. But he swallowed, and made the conscious decision to answer Anthony's question as honestly and completely as possible.]

Last night... some people attacked us. They broke in, and they smashed a lot of the store up and left... messages. Threatening messages. I don't think they like what I'm doing with Espresso Yourself.