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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Perhaps one day they could sit down and share their dislike of shopping. Not now, though, as Tony has just noticed not only what L has in his hand, but how obviously nervous he is about it. He raises an eyebrow.

"Nice grip," Seriously, how do you manage that? He'd mention the color but that's going too far, no, instead he'll spare L. A little. "So, who's the lucky lady?" Tony now is not the time for lecherous grins can you not torment poor nervous L?

The troll cannot always be contained, sorry L. "She a bit Lysol fan as well?"

Tony no.

Oh, ground, swallow him up now and spare him this humiliation. It does not; the linoleum remains quite intact under his steel-toed boots, if a little slipperier than it was a few moments ago.

"I..." he stammers, shaking his head, unnerved by that incredibly lecherous grin. This isn't appropriate, he thinks vaguely, because even though Tony is 18 the nature of their relationship isn't one that discusses these personal matters so candidly. Though Tony has seen him naked, in compromised and humiliating situations during their torture, and (worse, he thinks) out of his mind on his bad days, sex is something that he prefers to be discreet about, which is just one more reason to hate shopping.

"It's... well I guess..." he rubs at the back of his neck, forgetting that his hand is slick and grimacing when he's reminded unpleasantly of it as it slides against the sensitive skin. "...well we have a lot in common."

I spent the night with Cesar; he knows that. Is he trying to fish for more information, or has he seriously not guessed?

Nope, this is part of having brothers. Enduring great humiliation from, in front of, and sometimes by them.

Sometimes Tony can be horrible, but he only does it in good fun. And watching L squirm is good fun right now. Poor L. You're brothers now L, sometimes brothers talk about these things it's okay. But he'll be less terrible soon. Maybe.

It just so happens there's a clean up station right nearby, and while L stammers and acts awkward Tony gingerly finds one of those pop-open wet floor signs and drops it on the floor. Might as well warn anyone about the slipping hazard. "Do you?" Still grinning a positively devilish grin as he glances back up at L. "Such as movies?"

Oh, he had an idea, but he's fishing. Playing stupid is a good way to do that.

L was an orphaned only child, much like Tony. Having a brother is very new to him. He weathers the ridicule as gracefully as he possibly can, keeping his fidgeting to a minimum. If Shou can treat these subjects so casually, there's no reason he can't. He watches as Tony pops out the wet floor sign, which was luckily nearby, and he steps aside to better avoid the lubed up patch of linoleum.

"Among other things. You seriously don't have anything better to pester me about?" he mumbles. "It's personal, but if you want to know something, I'm probably going to mess it up before it properly starts."

It's new to Tony as well, but he's had a couple friends his own age who weren't nearly as socially stunted as himself to teach him a few things. Needling was just a show of interest and affection, if obnoxious. Obnoxious is just the other part of the affection.

It's a safe bet they probably have those tubes with the fold up signs near aisles that have liquids, and since mouthwash, shampoo, and all sorts of those things are near, so are the signs. "Well I could ask you why you're buying a car's weight in disinfectant but I know that answer. Besides, this is more interesting," L has a boy friend~. He frowns at the self-disparaging statement. "What makes you say that? You obviously think it's pretty serious." Or he wouldn't be buying (and panicking about) lube.

L laughs humorlessly at Tony's quip about the disinfectant. Truly, anyone who knows him knows well that his most notable bingeing tendency has to do with Lysol, and its powerful ability to lay waste to any germs that try to cross his path. It comforts and soothes his more neurotic traits, and as far as his vices go, it's one of the least harmful ones.

"Maybe I think so," L says, tugging at the hairs on the back of his neck distractedly. "But maybe he doesn't. Maybe he'll think I'm crazy and reading things absolutely wrong, so... I'm glad you find my dilemma so 'interesting,' I guess."

Just don't try to drink it, please, the hand sanitizer was bad enough. But yes, overall, it's a more harmless vice so Tony's content to let it lay unless it starts to prove to be actually harmful to L. Besides if he ever needs some cleaning tips he knows who to come to?

"Hm..." A possibility, maybe, but hopefully not the case. "Hey, hey, don't be like that. I talked to you about Shou," He pouts a little, rudely leaning on L's cart. "It's not like that, I just hadn't expected it is all. You were pretty adamant before. You're enjoying yourself, yeah?"

When his cough gets bad again and his clothes and hair reek of it rather than just carry a slight tinge of the scent, Tony can worry and interfere. Until then, thank God it's not worse things.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, frustration interfering with his embarrassment. "It's not... I'm not trying to be like 'that'. I'm sorry. You're right, you did, I just..."

It's different. Somehow, in some way I'm struggling to define, this is different and somehow wrong.

He takes a deep breath, setting his basket on the floor and leaning against the shelf. By now, he is too worn out to fight his friend for information that is harmless, and even pleasant. It's irrational and strange to treat it like such a secret when he is already planning for a "next time."

"It was unexpected, but I'm enjoying myself. I think he's enjoying himself too, or... he'd let me know, I think."

Better believe he's keeping an ear out for that, too. More reasons to worry about L, but this isn't one of them. L having something like this in his life might help in the long run. He could use a distraction.

Tony just frowns, yeah he's pulled a bit of a cheap trick there and he knows it, but sometimes he has to to get L to talk. It's distressing for the man in a way he doesn't understand, and his instincts react as though there's possibly something bad happening rather than only good.

He's worried.

"I'd think so too, Cesar doesn't strike me as the type to do something he doesn't want to." So, then, what's the problem? Of course mental hangups are a thing he understands all too well.

It's complicated, in that good things have been on a years-long hiatus from happening to Lazarus Lawliet. In that time, he grew to regard good fortune as suspicious. Every kind word was a condescending lie, every favor a new debt on top of an already overwhelming pile, every gift a time bomb or Trojan Horse. He's let his guard down lately around Cesar, and the result is an open floodgate of variables he can no longer completely control. That's both liberating and terrifying, and it might be good or bad. He is equally unsure of both of them.

"I don't know what I'm doing. Not even a little bit," he says, bare and blunt and honest. "Usually I avoid things that I have no skill or knowledge in. It feels so much safer."

Ah, Tony knew that feeling. There were many times when seeming acts of good will and charity only served to turn around and bite you on the ass. But he'd never quite lost his gullibility like Lazarus had, in some ways Tony was still fairly childish. His habit of being too-trusting once he liked someone was one of those.

He was hopeful this wouldn't prove to be one of those terrible things in L's case, he deserved some good fortune for a change.

"Wish I could help," Tony plucked up a pack of condoms to read it over, before setting it back on the counter with a shrug. "I don't know anything about this sort of stuff either. Not really much point in trying, but you probably understand that."

He doesn't mean insult but neither one of them are exactly party-boys.

He shrugs dully at Tony's observation. He doesn't take it as an insult; there'd be no point in that, considering it's so very close to the truth.

Well, at least now that L's no longer on the drugs. There had been a period of time where "party boy" had actually fit him pretty well, even if he staggered blindly and bloodily through the scene rather than reveled in it.

In truth, he's afraid of doing that now, and coming out with more damage.

"You may have time yet to learn," he murmurs softly, rearranging the items in his basket so that they fit neater and nicer as there's no point concealing anything now. "Shou could teach you a lot about them, surely..."

True, L had more experience in general than Tony did, probably. Well yes even if it had been largely really awkward and regrettable experience, if his stories were anything to go by.

Yeah it still didn't really count, considering L was only doing it for the drugs and not also for the sex bashes or whatever it is those types do. Again, not something Tony's really familiar with beyond Hollywood understanding.

It'll be alright, right? Maybe? Hopefully?

"Hn..." Although he couldn't really justifiably deny that Shou absolutely would teach him. Considering he, uh, kind of already was. Part of the reason he was there for the muscle ointment and all. "You don't think that's a bad idea?" He's suddenly a little awkward, looking at anything but directly at L. Don't mind him just uh. Wow man Dr. Scholl's isn't that interesting let's read it in detail shall we?

L glances sidelong at Tony, sensing that maybe there's something else he wants to ask but is shying away from at present. He has a guess at what it might be, and bites his lip.

"Why would I think it's a bad idea?" he asks innocently. "And do you have warts? Those can be awful."

He's not really sure how to feel about the thing he's got going on with Shou. Or rather, how he's supposed to be feeling because what he's learned about how those things work and how they're actually working are very different and causing conflict.

It's a problem okay. "I dunno. I mean, he's not really the relationship type you know?" Tony's not sure that's what he wants anyway, too complicated and weird. Bah. "What, warts?" He blinks, surprised and slightly mortified before he realizes what he's holding. Oh, oops. He moves to put it back, fumbles, spends a few seconds juggling it, then finally gets it back where it belongs. "No I don't have warts."

Currently, L isn't even really aware that there's anything going on with Shou. He certainly knows less about it than Tony knows about Cesar, even if he's fairly sure what the nature of the teenager's feelings are for the vampire. He hopes that they won't lead to being emotionally crushed, as he knows, just as well as most other people, how casually and temporarily Shou tends to approach relationships.

"I know," he says. "But people change. Sometimes they make concessions and compromises. You can't force any of that, of course, but..."

He watches Tony put the Dr. Scholls back.

"No warts? Oh, good... maybe you don't need a condom then."

Considering Tony hasn't told anyone about it that's no surprise. Not exactly something that's easy to bring up or explain when he can't even explain it to himself. Oh well, he'll just drop hints and see if L picks up on it or not. Yes, Tony is well aware of Shou's status on relationships, it'd be rude to try to drag him into one anyway.

"Eh, I think it's probably better not to push him. He's got like some kind of compulsive need to ruin 'em. It's alright, that's just Shou." Tony wouldn't want to change him for the world, after all.

He raises his eyebrow at L. "I don't think that'll treat those kinds of warts anyway. Probably safer if I do anyway, just in case."

"It's better not to push anyone... the heart knows what it wants and it's always healthier to go at a pace that's natural and comfortable. That pace just... doesn't always match up, when a pair tries to get involved. If I had to give a definition to 'compatibility,' that would probably be it," L admits. "And... yes, of course, that kind of wart should probably be treated by a doctor, and not the Scholls variety."

Look at you L, giving relationship advice. You really are a good big brother. Although Tony still looks rather uncertain, he's thinking about it. Truth is, he doesn't know what he wants. He knows what he thinks he's supposed to want, but the cogs just aren't lining up properly. How to explain something you don't have adequate words for, though? "Heh, good thing it's not a concern, huh?"

Remember L he's got less experience than you, and that's saying something.

L has never been in a position of responsibility at all before a little over a year ago. He tries with the big brother thing, fiercely and devotedly.

"A very good thing. Everyone should protect themselves and know what they have that others might need protection from."

There's an awkward silence.

"Actually, I'm getting on that. I've been terrified for years to actually get tested for things there's a very real possibility I've contracted."

He does well, especially for someone who has never had the chance to learn to do so before now. It's not a skill that's easy to pick up, but L's doing spectacularly. They're learning together.

"Yeah, you're probably right about that. I hadn't really thought about it before."

To be fair, he hadn't had much reason to. What are you going to catch if you can't even manage to do the deed, after all?

At first Tony looks confused, then it dawns on him... Even if L hasn't been sexually active he has had a long history of use. Well, that could definitely complicate things. "You haven't? Neither have I, honestly. Might be a good idea to check it out? I mean you haven't shown any symptoms, yeah? Still, better safe than sorry."

That moment when something lights up and connects in someone's brain regarding L's checkered history is always an interesting one. He clears his throat somewhat awkwardly, glad that at least it doesn't need to be said out loud, glad that Tony isn't taking the opportunity to chastise him for his foolishness and his recklessness.

"No symptoms," he's quick to confirm. "But that could mean relatively little in the grand scheme of things... bad blood-borne things can take years to become symptomatic, so. Ultimately, I've just got to bite the bullet and get the blood test... on the bright side, at least I'm not afraid of needles."

Ha, ha.

Everyone makes mistakes, and he's well aware of L's past. But Tony isn't one to judge, he's seen some of the darkest places people end up in and honestly he cannot blame them even slightly for seeking some kind of relief. If at the bottom of a bottle or the end of a needle, everyone had their methods.

"Yeah, that is true..." He does let out a little chuff of a rueful laugh at that. Terrible joke, L. "Want some company? I mean it couldn't hurt to get looked at, just in case..." Since now he's a little worried.

While his past wasn't quite as colorful in that regard as Lazarus, there were some missing spots that could definitely have left some questions behind. Better safe than sorry?

Whether or not someone judges, the facts and statistics are undeniable and somewhat scary. For an already anxious and paranoid personality, they're even scarier.

"Yeah, that's... thank you. If you're not busy, I mean. You've already spent so much time holding my hand in hospitals, I don't want to wear out my welcome before I actually am old and sick, you know?"

Understandably so, and Tony would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. "Luck" isn't some magical force that protects you from your bad decisions, especially particularly dangerous ones. Tony's a good example of that, he's survived some really bad decisions, but he's paid the price in blood.

"It's alright, it's something I should get taken care of too, anyway. And it'd feel weird going alone." He'd probably chicken out and leave, honestly. At least if he went with L he'd have an obligation to see it through to the end. He chuckles a little. "Hey, don't talk like that. You're gonna live to a ripe old age you hear me?"

He knows that's not realistic, but he can dream.

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