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

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

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.

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Bringing up obscure studies probably wouldn't help Liam when it comes to Lazarus, anyway; probably better for both their stamina if he doesn't bring them up.

"Well... at least you acknowledge they aren't as strong," he shrugs. "The same way blowing really hard on the ocean isn't as strong as a hurricane, but technically true, all things considered."

He shakes his head slightly as the other man coughs into his elbow.

"You know, I had pneumonia, and my cough is basically gone. Antibiotics are really great. No lecture, just... putting that out there."

He rolls his eyes at the analogy, but he wasn't about to fight about it when he wasn't feeling one hundred percent just yet.

"Believe it or not, I'm okay with antibiotics. If you really need them, that's cool. Doctors decide that. Doctors know what they're doing most of the time, I'm not stupid."

Right about now Liam is wondering once more why people always question his choices when it comes to things like this. He actually does what doctors tell him to do, for the most part.

"But antibiotics aren't going to help me, it's viral bronchitis, so I just have to stick it out. Shouldn't be too much longer."

By now they're at the appropriate aisle, and Liam gently throws a packet of Halls in his basket, then starts reading the backs of different bottles.

"I'm glad you're feeling better though."

L raises his eyebrows, nodding; he's actually impressed, having pegged Liam for being a little more extreme in his views. This is reasonable and, therefore, comfortable.

"No, it shouldn't be too much longer. And thank you... I had a very good friend helping me out through recovery."

He watches Liam pick out his cough drops. "Hey, I... wonder if you could tell me which of these have the strongest flavor? I can't taste things too well, and I'd like to buy some too, but I don't want to feel like I'm sucking on rocks."

"Yeah, I was glad my dad came down from New York, buuuuut I think he's planning on staying now. We found out he's numbered."

Now that he was feeling better, Liam wasn't sure he wanted so much father-son bonding. His dad was... sometimes awkward to be around. At the question about cough drops, he looks them over.

"Oh, okay... well, my dad got me different kinds but obviously I haven't tried this whole rack or anything. Let's see..."

He points out a few.

"Okay, these are strong, but they're gross. They work though. If you're talking about tasting good, then maybe... these. They're citrus-ish, and they don't work as well, but they taste sour in that good citrus way."

"I actually met your father this morning," L remarks, tilting his head and watching the way Liam speaks about the other man with a slightly furrowed brow. "He seems really nice... I mean, he's not much like you, but he has a lot of passion for his work, and that's admirable."

Maybe that has enough hooks in it that he can glean more about their relationship, but these types of things come to a head relatively quickly, and L's pretty sure that just by paying attention normally in the coming weeks and months, he can still get a pretty good read on it.

He takes Liam's advice at complete, trusting face value, taking both of the flavors he recommends and dropping them in his basket. "Yeah, thanks... I'll give them a shot, Liam."

"No problem. I hope those work out."

At the mention of his father, he's curious, wondering if the other might have found his dad annoying - as a lot of people do - Liam himself loves his father dearly, and they get along fine, but sometimes it was embarrassing to have a his airhead parent around. ~~because he is forever a teenager.~~

"Oh? Where did you meet him? ...and yeah, he gotta say he loves what he does. He's pretty good, too."

Liam continues to read the back of a bottle of 'night time' cough medicine for a moment before adding it to his basket.

"He came to Willow Ridge," Lazarus replies. "He expressed interest in sketching it, he was... ultimately very complimentary. I've worked hard on renovations, so hearing it from someone with no real reason to flatter was gratifying." He shrugs lightly. "I think you're lucky to have a pleasant person like that for a father, myself."

"Yeah my dad is pretty cool like that."

Liam smiles a little. It sounded pretty typical of his dad to just show up randomly and ask to sketch something.

"And if he says he likes your place he means it... That's where the teleporter is right? What kind of school is it again?"

Embarrassing parents are better than bad parents or no parents at all. Lazarus is the first person to say so, and he's admittedly envious of people whose elders care so much, even if they do it in a way that is a little socially compromising for their offspring.

"He seemed disarmingly sincere," Lazarus says. "And yes, that's where the teleporter was moved. It was a boarding school a long time ago, and someday when the Numbered don't need it anymore, I want it to be one again. For troubled kids, maybe."

"I went to boarding school once, but I got kicked out after three months."

This is Liam, you shouldn't be surprised.

"I got in trouble a lot but I don't think I was told I was troubled... Do you mean kids who like..."

He pauses a minute, trying to find a socially acceptable way to say what he meant, because not right in the head didn't sound polite.

"Like they need therapy or something like that?"

L tilts his head; he can't say he's particularly surprised that someone like Liam has that type of history, seeing that he's generally counter-culture and anti-authority beyond what's considered passably trendy. He's probably been like that for a lot longer than hipsters have been frequenting Espresso Yourself, so it makes sense that he'd get in trouble at a straight-laced place like a boarding school.

He sighs through his nasal passages when Liam grapples with a tactful way to put a difficult subject into words.

"Maybe," he replies, after letting it sink in for a few moments that Liam seems to be uncomfortable with the topic in general. "It's not like it would be a treatment facility, though. More like... a school for kids who have a lot of potential but come from less-than-ideal circumstances. Regardless of their socioeconomic background, family situation, or Numbered status... whatever... I want to send them to college already being well on their way to becoming experts in their fields. I'm still working it out."

"That's a cool idea, man."

Even if Liam wasn't really familiar with the subject matter, he could understand wanting to help out people who needed it. Kids especially. He was always good with school work, but he didn't exactly have an easy time socially growing up.

He turns away to cough, then opens up the bag of coughdrops he intended to purchase and pops one in his mouth. He'd pay for them in a few anyway.

"So, right now it's just numbered people living there who need a place to stay? Or is it just for the teleporter?"

"Well... not all of us are becoming immortals or demigods. If my Other was as human as I am, I guess it's sinking in that if I want to live forever, I have to build something that will outlast me," L says somberly. "If a 'cool idea' goes on helping someone after I can't, I think that's as much as anyone could hope to accomplish in their lifetime."

He eyes the coughdrops; he's never opened something before purchasing it in his life, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"It's for the teleporter, but I've been fixing it up for that purpose, yeah. I live there now, work there when I'm not at the coffee shop. You could say it gives me a sense of purpose. You know how that is, right?"

He sounds... maybe a touch too uncertain about that. Liam doesn't strike him as the ambitious type.

Liam may surprise him, as he nods in understanding and perks up a bit at the conversation.

"Oh, yeah I get that. I mean, that's kind of why I do what I do."

He pauses, looking thoughtful and trying to explain exactly what he means.

"The world is like, so much bigger than us. And there are some really great things in it, like trees and rivers and mountains, even. And even though we're only here for a little while, we still mess things up a hell of a lot. I want to save that, you know? Keep the earth like it's supposed to be."

For a moment it looks like he's going to stop there, but something L said comes back to his mind, and he looks concerned.

"But you said you want to build something to outlast you. Literal buildings will fall apart way earlier than the earth does. I hope you mean that like, figuratively."

It's a little surprising, but given the subject of Liam's dedication and passion, perhaps not as much as it could be. From what Lazarus knows of Liam, it actually makes a fair amount of sense... even if it sounds a touch like prime stoner rhetoric.

Like trees and rivers and mountains, man. So much bigger than us, you know? The corner of his mouth twitches, but he's able to maintain a respectful enough expression.

"That's a good goal," he replies, "but anyone who claims to know for sure how the earth is 'supposed to be' can't be very well-informed. And of course I don't mean literal buildings," he says, shaking his head and squinting at the ridiculous, literal simplicity of the inference. "I'm talking about people, ideas and lives."

"Hey, it's not people that should say how the earth should be, it's the earth itself. I just try to listen to that. Give the earth what it needs, and try not to screw up all it's hard work."

At the other part of the topic he nods, glad that L didn't think a building would last forever - nature had a way of reclaiming things eventually. Still, people didn't last forever either, but good ideas and the way people think could stay around much longer.

"That's good, I was just checking. Hey but... if you ever need to build an actual building or do repairs or whatnot, you should totally go eco-friendly. That's what my family's company does."

L looks like he actively resists going outdoors; he's got a hell of a computer tan, and he looks actively undernourished; he looks more like something out of an old vampire movie than the kind of person who would actually be able to participate in talk of what the Earth needs and listening to it.

"It's a good cause. A noble one," he says. "Since the school was built decades before I was born, though, and I have no intentions of demolishing it or starting over elsewhere... I'll call it recycling, if you like. That's eco-friendly."

"Hey, you can put new parts in an old car as long as most of it is still good, right? Same idea. Like, if you need new windows, there are windows that help insulate better so you spend less energy. That sort of stuff. Um..."

Liam pulls out a wallet from his back pocket, and starts looking through it.

"Okay so apparently I'm pretty lame about keeping a business card, but if you ever want to think about it, you can talk to me and I can point you to the people who do consults and stuff, yeah?"

He looks down at his wallet and then to the register.

"I'd better get going, though. I'm getting pretty tired, anyway."

He tilts his head, smiling slightly, having not thought of those options. The school does get drafty, and even though winter should be ending in a couple of months, it's been a miserable one. He waits expectantly for a business card, but Liam comes up short, and he shrugs amiably.

"Yeah, I think I will. Thanks, Liam. And... of course, don't let me hold you up. Get some proper rest and it was good seeing you."

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

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