I read the news today, oh boy, about a lucky man who made the grade [February 4, OPEN]

[dead_black_eyes]

Who: Lazarus Lawliet and open to anyone!
What: A day in the life
Where: Multiple locations around town
When: February 4, Wednesday
Warnings: Mild swearing and suggestive content



A- Willow Ridge Boarding Academy, Morning

With the help of various Numbered individuals, a few discreet contractors and one chameleon-faced custodian, Willow Ridge is coming into its own and turning into a somewhat respectable establishment. By now, it's common knowledge that the teleporter is in the finished basement that Shou has helped to turn into a very comfortable work space, and a clear and efficient path, complete with helpful paper signs, has been established to help anyone who wants to use it get there as quickly and easily as possible. Since he owns and inhabits the building housing the main mode of Numbered travel between echo zones, Lazarus sees some serious traffic, and has gotten used to it. He no longer automatically looks up every time he hears a door and footsteps, but sometimes if he knows that there will be a lot of people coming through, he makes sure that coffee and donuts are available for travelers coming and going.

That's not to say that people don't come to inquire about other matters. L employs Numbered when and where he can, whether they're handy with tools, good with computers, or are just capable enough to learn how to make a good latte. He's easy enough to find, tending to stick to where the teleporter, computers and coffee are located downstairs. That being said, if he's not there and you're looking for a quiet moment to speak with him in private, he's probably upstairs in his room, sitting by the open window and taking a cigarette break.

B- Espresso Yourself, Afternoon

Now that Espresso Yourself is open again, it means picking up slack as the Numbered population worldwide seems to be thinning out. While that makes the remaining Numbered more high profile and curious to the general public, it also means that Lazarus is scooping up shifts and stepping behind the counter on days where he's short-staffed in an effort to keep the business running smoothly. As long as he's making something like a profit, he can put that money into other projects and causes. Espresso Yourself isn't a cash cow, but it takes in with enough to keep up renovations on the school and provide the people working for him with a respectable paycheck. Considering the social climate they're occupying, that's not bad at all, and Lazarus won't complain.

Maybe you're here to sample the vegan offerings on the menu, or for a mid-afternoon smoothie, but if you drop by after school lets out, you might get caught in the middle of some trouble. Four of Locke City High's football players come in wearing varsity jackets, laughing and joking as they order the most needlessly complicated drinks they can. L knows they're trouble the second they start teasing Torin's parrots, but even after he tells them to cut it out, they're talking too loudly at their table, making audible fun of Lazarus, his employees and the hipster clientele. He stares; one of them makes eye contact with him, and grins as he dumps what's left of his latte on the hardwood floor.

"Hey, this coffee sucks!" he says loudly, to the answering laughter of his friends. Lazarus sets his jaw, reaching under the counter for a bucket half full of soapy water and grabbing a mop as he comes out from behind the counter. The offending football player snickers, standing up to allow him access to cleaning up the mess, but Lazarus holds the mop out toward him.

"Uh, I don't work here," he snorts.

"Clean up your mess," Lazarus says softly, pressing the handle into his chest.

Another one of the football players stands up, and the one who dumped his coffee knocks the handle away.

"Look, it was an accident. You're lucky I don't ask for my money back. What are you going to do about it?"

"No accident," Lazarus says, picking up the mop and practically flinging it at the kid. "Clean up your mess, and then get out."

"You taking crazy pills, bro?" the coffee spiller's a big guy, and he's not used to getting this kind of lip from people he could absolutely smear into the pavement.

"Actually, I..." Lazarus eyes widen, then he pinches the bridge of his nose, cringing. "Oh, shit. My prescriptions. I forgot to refill my prescriptions. Uh..." he nudges the bucket toward the jock, who takes a jumpy step back. "Just clean this up, please. I have to make a phone call."

C- Drug Store, Evening

Lazarus avoids eye contact with the old lady in line to pick up her prescription.

"Heart medication," she says sweetly, turning to glance at him. "When you get older, everything just starts falling apart!"

"Yeah... I know," Lazarus answers. "I can see that."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I didn't mean... just that I know it's hard getting older. I'm sorry."

There's a frosty silence for a few moments. "What are you here for, multivitamins? Those look like the jeans my granddaughter wears."

"...yeah, multivitamins."

Lazarus gets his seven different paper bags, dropping them in his basket and ignoring the way the old women watches his back as he walks away. He takes a turn down his favorite aisle; the assorted scents don't make a difference to him, but he takes a few of every color anyway, filling the rest of the basket with disinfectant spray and wipes. As he's putting the last can on the shelf into his basket though, he pauses, placing it carefully back. Lysol Disinfectant Spray, Spring Waterfall Scent. Not today, no room...

He glances up at the signs hanging above the aisles, labeling their content. Isn't there room in his life, now? Taking a quick survey of who is around and who might be watching, he goes several aisles down, staring at a pink, orange, and purple array of boxes. Words are printed on them to evoke pleasure, ecstasy, the promise that they won't be noticed. He reaches for one, selecting it more or less randomly, shoving it into his basket along with the many bottles of Lysol. As an afterthought, he reaches for a bottle of lube, debating whether or not to pocket it or put it back, but feeling strongly that it's a decision he needs to make quickly before anyone sees him.

Comments

c

[ursoreckless]

"Do you know what you're doing, L-kun?"

Moving with a vampire's silent ease, Shou leaned in close to the fragile human, smiling a little at the fact that he was down this isle of all places. So there was a romance brewing in the air. He wasn't sure who, but that didn't mean anything really. What really mattered was the what, and right now, Shou was pretty sure that even L wasn't sure about the what.

"I'd go for something a lot lighter and without so much perfume. Water-base is better for cleaning up and maybe vanilla if you really want any favoring." He was going to pick that box out of the bottles of Lysol too, just you watch. "Did you actually read this?"

[dead_black_eyes]

L nearly jumps out of his skin at the vampire's sudden presence at his side, actually dropping his basket. Though his surgery made his hands a lot better than they were a year ago, he's still unused to holding onto things without concentrating on them, and the second something rips his focus away fully and suddenly, what he's holding frequently falls out of his hands.

Shaken, he kneels to regather his cans of Lysol, prescriptions, and... yes, the condoms, because of course those fell out too, and ended up perched cheerfully on top of the pile.

"No, I'm... honestly trying to just get in and out really fast," L mumbles, lowering his voice in the hopes that Shou will do the same, a pink tinge appearing in his pale cheeks. It deepens when he realizes what he's said and how it sounds.

[ursoreckless]

Shou just watched L for a moment and then bends over to take the box, flip it over to read and then snort with all the contempt of a guy that knows a lot about the pleasurable side of life. The condoms were set aside and Shou first picks out two water-based lubes - one a light vanilla flavored and one unflavored - and then goes to take the basket out of L's hands.

"Okay," he drawled and decided not to poke fun at the comment L just made. "It's fine if you wanna leave right away, just buy things and go, but you can't be grabbing anything off the shelves. Condoms are serious business. What if you buy ones too small, or too large? Do you know the kind of problems that would happen outside of tearing and falling off? And ribbed? That's something you get for when you know what your partner likes, cuz some people are pretty sensitive and ribbing might just hurt them."

With that, he was going to guide him back over to the condom section, eying the packets and boxes with a slight smirk since it looked like the store clerks had arranged the pricy ones right where someone like L would grab them first thing.

B

[scarlet_devil]

Well, she picked a perfect time to show up, didn't she? The vampire was surprised to hear that Espresso Yourself had reopened, naturally she decided to make a brief stop there.

She wasn't expecting to find trouble the second she went in, not that anyone here was remotely a threat to her.

[dead_black_eyes]

Whether Emi's arrival was a perfect thing or the precise opposite of that depended on who one chose to ask. Lazarus is quietly grateful when he spots her out of the corner of his eye, and though he thinks he can handle them on his own, he really does have to make that phone call, and quickly.

"Wait, you're that guy..." the coffee-spiller says uncertainly. "You lose your shit at customers."

"Yeah, I'm that guy," Lazarus confirms. "I don't want trouble, I just want you to clean up your mess."

The jock leans the broom handle against the table. "You know, I heard you were a lot bigger. I think I could take you," he admits. "Wanna take this outside, champ?"

[scarlet_devil]

"Honestly, you made a spectacularly poor choice of a target." Emi could easily match the bravado of these guys, and had in fact been a bully herself when she was younger. Funny how turning into a bloodsucking monster made her a better person.

The vampire's wings were extended fully, of course, and her eyes were glowing a dull red.

C

[arrowpoint]

Liam looks around at the shelves in front of him, and realizes that he's in entirely the wrong isle. Finding the herbal remedies was easy - he'd been to that aisle many times - but other more "artificial" things were harder for him to locate. Just as he was thinking about asking for help, he spots Lazerus.

"Hey you, it's been a while!"

He's still a bit pale, and his voice is strained as if he'd been coughing for weeks - which was true, actually. Otherwise he's in his usual spirits.

"I heard that your place opened up again, how's that going?"

...And no, Liam does not notice the lube.

[dead_black_eyes]

"Hey...!" The response is automatic and a touch panicked; his face drains of color when he turns toward the young man, and it takes him a second to place him. It has been awhile, and though Lazarus tries to keep tabs on everyone on the Network, some are easier for him to keep up with than others. The last time they spoke proper, he thinks he might have been scolding Liam for disappearing without warning or consideration for those who would be concerned for him.

"It's been... yeah, awhile..."

He moves his basket behind his legs in a way he hopes is subtle, turning his hand so the item he's holding is also a little less clear. Maybe it looks like he's shoplifting, but he swears that it hasn't yet come to that.

"It's going well," he says, feeling it's an honest answer, that he should be grateful business is going at all given the current social climate. "What about you? I heard you were sick, and... I'd be lying if I said you didn't still look it. What was it you had?"

[arrowpoint]

Truthfully, with his frantic network post probably the entire population of numbered probably knew he'd been sick. Almost as if to demonstrate, Liam turns away and coughs roughly into his elbow.

"Yeah I have. It was a bad flu, and then that turned into bronchitis. Fun huh? I'm on the tail end of it now but I'm okay."

The way Lazarus moves the basket behind him doesn't appear to bother Liam. Lazerus just seemed kind of quirky to him, which was plenty okay in his opinion.

"I'm looking for cough drops. My dad's been getting them for me but I wanted to get out of the house I was getting antsy. You have any idea where they are? I'm in the wrong place."

Idly he turns to the shelves, poking at pregnancy test curiously, not particularly bothered about the contents of this particular aisle.

"...Huh. Digital. That's cool."

B

[radiantchicken]

Torin is not the sort to be easily intimidated by big humans. Or anyone, for that matter. The rowdy youths caught his attention the moment they started annoying the parrots, but now some sort of confrontation looks to be unavoidable. "Is there a problem over here?" The birdman crosses his arms. From what he has studied of human body language, he knows it is a pose that suggests he's not respecting the larger human's perceived dominance.

[dead_black_eyes]

On days like this, L is really glad that his manager is a large and imposing dinosaur bird creature. He stands aside and the football player is immediately saucer-eyed.

"Uh... uh, no sir, there's no problem here," he mumbles, taking the mop and dabbing at the floor while his friends laugh, now at him.

"When you're done, please bring the mop and bucket back," L says before turning toward Torin and mouthing "thank you" at him. "I appreciate it..." he mumbles. "Are things actually getting better for Numbered, do you think, or is it just me who doesn't really see it?"

B

[prismaticdestruction]

Even though she was supposed to be grounded, Dani still has found a way to be out and about to keep her mind off of anything. So she has decided to wander until something interesting was happening...Which ended up being inside Espresso Yourself. The little vampire just watches, her red eyes wide and slightly worried. Although she flared up her wings a bit and moved forward. Might as well look like she scare them or something right?

[dead_black_eyes]

Espresso Yourself seems to be prime stomping ground for mild rule-breakers, and for this L accepts game responsibility. He notices her out of the corner of his eye as she comes in, but the four ball players staring him down and sizing him up rather demand a bit more pressing attention.

No one's actually laid a finger on L yet, but they seem to be entertained by the thought of doing so, until one of them glances up and calls attention to the small, red-eyed girl with wings that seem to flare up in response to the heated situation. This gets a hearty laugh out of them.

"Do little girls always come save you when you're in trouble?" one of them mocks directly to L, who glances Dani's way.

"I've got this under control," he assures her, though it looks like he might actually be in over his head. "I don't like the thought of you getting in trouble for them, Dani."

Some of their smiles slip a little, at that.

A~!

[bythewaves]

Liam is feeling better, and has started to leave the house, leaving Arnold settled enough to go exploring. The city of Locke is interesting as much for its people as anything else, but Willow Ridge draws his attention for its own start beauty, a little bit of nostalgia in a modern city. He has his artbook out and is sketching almost immediately, and eventually finds a spot opposite to simply sit and draw. He's clearly visible by anyone in the building as well as who walks past, but he's got the sense to not be directly in anyone's path. Eventually he'll get up and wander inside as well, looking for the building's management to ask permission to sketch indoors as well.

"Hello? Excuse me, so sorry, are you the person who owns this place?"

[dead_black_eyes]

Lazarus doesn't like like he owns much of anything; he's a pale, hunching, crow-like presence in dark clothes, with wild hair and hollow eyes. He's used to people coming in and out, having realized early on that living a selfish and solitary life wasn't a luxury he could demand for himself when he was technically Project Jump's keeper. The only reason the mode of transportation works is because it's common knowledge that it resides here, and so he is used to Numbered coming and going throughout the day and night.

He hasn't encountered this man before, though. "Yes," he replies, slowly his routine to pause and engage him. "I'm Lazarus Lawliet. And you are...?"

He assumes that the man is there to look for Project Jump, like most, but he wants to be sure that he's dealing with another Numbered first.

B

[icy_heavens]

Technically, he is grounded. (Granny doesn't like the fact that he'd gone and deliberately gotten kidnapped by superhuman Santa monsters. Go figure.) But school is over and worrying about making decent time to get home is kind of a joke for him anymore. He can make quick stops, just to be out and about a little more and he hadn't been back here since it had re-opened, anyway.

And he happens to come in when the idiot deliberately dumps his coffee on the floor. Seriously? Said idiot proceeds to antagonize L for no good reason, and Toushirou just sighs. Normal people act like this, and then think there's something wrong with them.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

He's not exactly impressive to look at: a white-haired kid who looks small enough to be ten despite being thirteen, sassing a guy that by all appearances could grind him into the pavement. Toushirou isn't worried; he's really somewhere between annoyed and bored with the whole thing.

[dead_black_eyes]

L knows that Toushirou is an independent sort, not one to bow unquestionably to demands even from people who are very near and trusted to him. Now that Espresso Yourself is open again, it means seeing him more often, and admittedly, L finds this exceedingly agreeable. Even on days where he's not being needlessly antagonized by ridiculous highschoolers who know how to toss a pigskin around, but can't seem to figure out how to actually be decent human beings.

When they turn their eyes on the small white-haired preteen, the leader apparent snorts, looking him up and down. "Don't you have to be getting home to your parents?" one of them asks in a simpering falsetto. "Or did they kick you out for bleaching your hair a stupid color?"

Lazarus takes an instinctive step forward; though he knows that Toushirou is very adept on the battlefield, it's involuntary, born of an innate desire to protect someone smaller. "That's not an acceptable way to talk to another paying customer. There's a sign on the door reading that this is a safe place for Numbered, as well as a disclaimer saying that you'll be ejected from the premises if you don't abide by that standard."

"So call the cops. See how they like you wasting their time over spilled coffee," chortles the biggest one.

A

[solvethepuzzle]

It would be something easily enough discussed over the network or over the phone, but even if Nathan were always cautious about when he leaves his apartment . . . he just likes this place. It soothes him on an instinctive level even if the last time he'd visited had started off in massively awkward fashion.

If only he felt like he were ready, he honestly would have liked to stay.

He feels remarkably at ease just walking in like he belongs here. Perhaps he does. The similarity to Wammy's House isn't accidental; Lazarus has said that flat-out. Why should he not experience that sense of comfort from a place deliberately reminiscent of the one where his Other had grown up in safety? Applying logic to it all, it makes perfect sense.

His footsteps are soft on the floor, nearly weightless. He's just a slip of a thing, almost a ghost, and had become so used to treading lightly during his childhood that it's the most natural thing in the world for him to move this way. He isn't even specifically trying to avoid making noise. It just happens.

Finding Lazarus takes a few moments, but in the end Nathan finds him easily enough, perched at that window, thin trail of cigarette smoke trickling outside. A cold day to have the window open, but it at least keeps the inside air clear.

"I hope I'm not intruding."

[dead_black_eyes]

It's funny how something from a different life can so strongly influence the atmosphere and surroundings that one finds comfort and solace in, but Lazarus understands how Nathan feels. He feels it himself, after all, and every step he comes closer to making the old building a reasonable fascimile for the one in his memories just makes him feel that much more at home.

Lazarus doesn't hear him coming. He's in his room, which is stark and bare; though he's made efforts to spruce up the common areas, allowing creative and artistic decisions to fall to people like Shou and Tony, the space he's set aside for himself is white and sterile and actually somewhat harsh and unwelcoming. Lazarus isn't, so much; though he looks peaky and more than a little tired, he glances up when Nathan speaks, stubbing out his cigarette in a small metal ashtray on a desk that's otherwise swept completely clean.

"Never," he responds absolutely, leaving no room for potential doubt that he's just being polite. "I was hoping I'd see you, soon; what can I do for you?"

A!

[stefanged]

Back when Stefan had realized that he was Numbered, he had told Lazarus that he would visit - and at the time, he had fully intended on dropping by. He really had, and then life started to fall apart. It's no proper excuse, considering everything (and that he's used the teleporter before), but it's certainly a broken promise that was weighing on his mind.

So this time, when he drops by Willow Ridge, he's specifically seeking Lazarus, rather than the teleporter that he's accustomed to using. Thankfully, it seems like his task is far, far easier than he expected. Stefan doesn't quite recognize the young man near the computers, but he figures - if he's not L, then he could easily direct Stefan to the owner of the building.

So, carefully, he makes his way over as if he's grabbing a cup of coffee (he's not). "Morning," he says, trying not to peer over the guy's shoulders. "You're up pretty early."

[dead_black_eyes]

Lazarus is, to be fair, one of the busier Numbered; even his duller days tend to be packed with ongoing projects and engagements, so broken promises or unfulfilled intentions are easily overlooked. Though he was up late the night previously, he's tweaking hardcore on some of his stronger coffee and is hard at work cross-referencing a few personnel lists on the nearest computer monitor. He notes that the young man doesn't seem to be trying to see over his shoulder, but he closes out the window all the same.

"Good morning," he returns, peering owlishly up at from his chair, where his scrawny body is curled like a fortress. He squints; the lighting down here is dim, but he can make out the features of the person addressing him. He knows the voice and can attach a name to it, and he's seen the face before on the Network at some point in January, he's certain. "Stefan Alesci," he says after a second, glancing the younger man up and down as though to cement it in his thoughts. "So... you decided you did want to know more about getting involved?"

He reaches for his coffee, taking a deep sip; he's a difficult person to read and it's unclear whether he's leaning toward liking Stefan yet or not.

C - u don been caught L

[oncedevil]

Ugh, shopping. Tony never did like shopping, mostly because he was accustomed to being stared at and followed like he'd lift (which to be fair he probably would have in the past), but the crowds didn't help anything either. Dressed nicer and looking considerably less like he crawled in out of a gutter has deterred concerned associates from stalking him, at the very least.

Eventually he finds himself down the drug aisle in search of something to help with muscle pain. Ointment, or patch, that is the question. Man, he sure wishes he knew which might work better. Eventually he settles on Tiger Balm and Icy Hot, both of which he's reading as he meanders down one of the side aisles to try to find someone to ask. Tiger Balm has a tiger on it, so clearly that is the superior candidate, but Icy Hot has a lot of commercials. He's so wrapped up in his incredibly troubling conundrum that he very nearly blunders right into L's overladen basket.

"Woah, hey, sorry- L?" Fancy seeing you here. It takes him a few moments to process what he's seeing, mostly because his eyes went straight to the pile of cleaners. "You plan on disinfecting the whole school or what?"

Just give him a moment he'll catch on.

[dead_black_eyes]

Shopping is one of those things that's ultimately a necessary chore. He's not alone in disliking it, because Lazarus certainly wouldn't ever be at the store if he could help it, but now that he's on an actual schedule with his medications, with actual prescriptions and an actual doctor's direction, he's stepping out more often for necessary chores, because now they're not even things that he can justify putting off.

He startles violently when Tony bumps into him, hand clenching around the bottle in his hand; the seal breaks and slippery gel squirts onto the linoleum floor, not very discreetly, and L is red in seconds.

"I... like Lysol," he says, lamely and unnecessarily, desperate to wrench attention away from the mishap and the logical train that would doubtless lead to its origin.

[espigeonage]

Now that he's this big and... this, in general, Julien is more inclined to avoid people and being indoors. He hates how people tend to react to a talking pigeon the size of a small horse or a little electric car, it's something to brace for.

But he's gotta come through Willow Ridge to use the teleporter, right? And that means having to navigate fucking stairs in an enclosed space. His favorite.

[dead_black_eyes]

Lazarus hears rustling and, when he glaces over his shoulder, notes that the natural light coming in through the foyer is being blocked by something large in the staircase. He rises from his computer desk, approaching the stairs to investigate... and his eyes widen as he affects, essentially, the very reaction that Julien has come to hate. There's definitely some bracing there, alarm and uncertainty playing across L's features.

He knew about what happened to the young man around Christmas, of course, but this is the first time he's witnessed the result of his latest pulses in person.

"Hey, Julien..." he composes himself, setting his mind toward solving a problem rather than reflecting on the fact that Julien is absolutely a giant pigeon now. "Can you back up? It's a little out of the way but there's a freight elevator, that... might ultimately be easier for you than attempting this."

He hangs back for the moment; the temptation is to approach, immediately offer and ask how can I help?, but if Julien can back up under his own power, he won't need to.