savetheearth | [Closed] Between where I'm going and where I've been

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[Closed] Between where I'm going and where I've been

Who: D!Cesar, Nathan, Tony, potentially anyone else living at the school.

What: D!Cesar's going to kidnap Nathan for his plans to get at Tony!

When: Today or yesterday

Where: Locke!
Warnings: D!Cesar is yandere as all get out. There will probably be swearing, attempts at serious violence, and anything else that comes with a kidnapping.

The school outside the computer room is silent with the night's stillness, and computer fan whirring fills the small room. There aren't many lights, but the doppelganger realizes by now that this is normal. He's been here before. Everything is as he expects.

The door was already cracked open, and he pushes it all the way, letting computer-screen light spill into the hall. Whether or not the room's sole occupant turns at the shift in sound, Cesar removes the outermost paper from a pocket, shaking it out of its folds. It's loud and out of place in the silence. Permanent marker stares out from the dim lighting in bold.

DON'T TRY TO ALERT TONY. COME WITH ME.

I HAVE A GUN.

Heavy seconds tick pass. Cesar pulls back the edge of his jacket to show the brand new holster at his waist, dropping the cloth back down when the point has been made.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There wasn't that much blood, only a trickle along his chin from not swallowing fast enough but the blood - stale, full of chemicals necessary to store it - was doing its work and making him feel less likely of biting Misa, though that scream made him grit his teeth. As L left, Shou went to clear out the banking information from the computer, closing the accounts and double checking that he hadn't left any sign of them on the screen. That done, he just finished the last bit of the bag, rolling it up to make sure not a drop was left.

That done, he wiped his skin clean using a wet wipe and gave her a look.

"What? You'd rather I decided to chew on you? Tch. Stop shrieking; someone might think I'm trying to torture you or something."

Everything went into a small brown bag. Later on, that was going with the other burnable garbage into the one furnace downstairs, which was part of the reason why the place had a small electric bill. It was mostly self-sustaining, only needing a few outside hook-ups to run properly, and even then L probably planed work around if that stuff was shut off.

"Don't follow L either. He's probably gonna be de-toxifying himself."

"Wait, where are you going?" Misa asks after Lazarus, in a panic. She is fairly certain she is about to be murdered, why is her prime witness and the man that got her into this mess leaving?

She gives Shou as wide a berth as the room will allow as she does exactly what he told her not to and follows Lazarus. She is not about to be left alone with a blood-hungry vampire who is expressing interest in chewing on her, no matter what 'de-toxifying' Lazarus wants to get up to. Shou's words have her shaking too much to manage any sort of come back or even glare; she stumbles blindly after Lazarus, as if he has the power or inclination to protect her. It's her only shot.

"Please, please don't leave me with him," she begs, catching up with him at the staircase.

He's halfway up the staircase when he's aware of her following, her shrill voice and footsteps alerting him to her encroaching presence. He continues on up the staircase, but it doesn't seem like she's going to be shaken.

"He won't hurt you..." he insists, muttering the words as his chest starts to tighten. He knows what will make him feel better, what will quell that rising panic, and he hastens his paces and starts heading toward the boys' locker room, where there is a room full of shower nozzles.

He isn't running, but if his paces were any faster, they would at least qualify as a jog.

No, he won't hurt her. In fact, if she returned she would find him in the middle of cleaning. After living with L off and on for the past few weeks, Shou knew what was going on and he knew that there were some things he needed. Hence the cleaning spree going on in the command center. Shou would even put on some gloves, a handkerchief over his hair, and roll his pants legs up while attacking everything with cleansers, dust cloths, rags, and then a big huge mop.

Also he would be singing a Korean pop song. A idol group pop song, to be exact. Feel free to catch him mimicking one of the poses the idol members do with the mop handle.

"Did you hear him?!" Misa demands, racing up the stairs after Lazarus. Her hero. But really, what did she expect? If there's one thing she has learned this evening, it's that Lazarus places his trust in very dangerous people.

"He's looking at me like— a piece of meat!"

And in the terribly literal way, not the sexual way. Not that Misa is open to either alternative now, but she certainly preferred Shou's flirting to him talking about chewing on her.

Focused on keeping up with Lazarus and away from Shou, lest he try to follow them, Misa doesn't realize exactly where it is they're going until they are inside the boy's locker room.

Lazarus doesn't answer, bent toward a purpose and on a single-minded path toward pulling his mind back together. It's detoxing, not from a substance but from another damaging influence.

"He won't hurt you."

He repeats the words as they walk as though they're a spell to ward off a witch, but she's still following, and then in short order they're in the locker room where Lazarus is briskly turning on each showerhead. This way the room will fill with steam faster. As he does so, he doesn't remove his clothes, and they're already getting completely soaked.

No matter how many times Lazarus repeats the words, Misa just doesn't believe him. She doesn't know which of them he is really trying to convince, but even if he does believe that Shou won't hurt her, Misa has seen plenty of evidence otherwise. Lazarus is a poor judge of character. She isn't going to put her life on the line based only on his faith in a friend; she can't.

She finally comes to a halt in front of the shower heads, staying out of range of the spray. One by one Lazarus turns them on like a person possessed, and Misa can only stare on in bewilderment. What on earth is he doing? The water is saturating his clothes and he doesn't seem to notice, let alone care.

"Lazarus...?" she asks cautiously, slowly coming to the realization that she is witnessing some sort of mental breakdown.

In all fairness, Shou did warn her, even if the warning was a vague and unspecific one. He's measured and meticulous in has actions, ensuring that the water is hot without being scalding. For someone having a mental breakdown, he's decently good at damage control; he's been through this enough times to handle it relatively responsibly, after all. As his hair and clothes soak through and drip on the floor, he chooses a shower head and takes a careful, crouching seat on the tiles under it.

Peering up at Misa, he offers a glassy-eyed reassurance.

"Hey. It's going to be all right..."

For a moment all Misa can do is wonder what she has gotten herself into by following Lazarus here. When staring down at him becomes too awkward to continue, she sits down on the tiled floor, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap. At least now they're eye to eye.

"Yeah," she agrees uncertainly, bobbing her head. "It'll be alright."

It feels like she is intruding on something weird and private here, but strangely enough Misa feels safe, somehow certain that no one else will disturb them.

Lazarus finds it safe to, has consistently found it safe for years. Maybe Misa can at least understand that aspect of it; the combination of cleanliness and privacy forming a cocooned refuge for a person who's overwhelmed by the world at time.

His eyes follow her as she takes a seat on the wet floor, eyebrows raising slightly. While it comes as some strange relief that Misa is joining him rather than berating or abandoning him (though he'd thought he'd wanted this less than a minute ago)

"I don't have more than a hunch about how my Other died, but he was soaking wet when it happened. Maybe I find that a touch ironic."

The wet tiles aren't particularly comfortable, but it's not as if this outfit is especially precious to her. She shivers a bit, despite the humid air. There is something bizarre in seeing Lazarus crouching below the shower-head fully clothed, but she can sort of see the appeal in it.

"How do you know?" Misa asks, morbidly interested. Having a past life does necessitate that life having ended, after all. She isn't sure if she could handle echoing back her own death.

They're not comfortable, but they're clean, at the very least, immaculately scrubbed. Technically, this is Luca the custodian's job, but it's very likely that Lazarus comes her and does it himself for the sheer cathartic release. Since getting his hands fixed, he truly does like working with them as much as possible.

"It was after the lights went up over Las Vegas," he said. "It was at the same time I remembered the name 'Rue Ryuzaki', I just... ultimately remembered that I was wet before I died. Kind of a cruel joke, isn't it, for someone who tries to find water when he's in trouble?"

So this is a normal thing for him, then. That's a little reassuring. At least now Misa knows she hasn't pushed Lazarus to some sort of new breakdown.

"It is," she agrees, glancing up at the shower heads pensively. "That's a huge waste of water, you know."

Getting back to her feet, Misa kicks her slippers to the side of the room and pulls off her shirt, throwing it after them. Left in a navy blue camisole and skirt, she walks over to turn off the shower at the far end of the room, getting soaked in the process.

It's a very normal thing for him, which somehow manages to trump the fact that it's incredibly strange for anyone else. Besides, as the scale for Lazarus' breakdowns go, this doesn't even register.

He starts to pull himself up when she gets to her feet, protesting softly "But I like..."

Then she's removing her shirt, and he suddenly gets very quiet and gets very interested in biting at his thumb's cuticle as she strides across the room to start turning off showerheads.

"I'll leave three on, how is that?" Misa calls over her shoulder. It is a strange feeling, showering with all her clothes on. The camisole and skirt immediately start to stick to her skin and Misa can't help giggling at how absurd she must look, but it is sort of freeing.

She does her best to keep her head clear of the water, though her hair getting soaked is unavoidable. It's a good thing she already removed the day's makeup; Lazarus really wouldn't be able to take her seriously ever again with running mascara.

Once the showers to his left are off, except for one, Misa walks to the other side of the room to start from the right.

He peers up through his dripping bangs, still chewing his thumb as he gives a morose little nod. With his hair and clothes clinging to him, he very much resembles some kind of big-eyed frog or fish.

His eyes follow her as she continues her quest to save water.

"It doesn't matter how much it costs," he mumbles around his thumb. "I can pay for it. I don't mind."

"Don't let the money go to your head," Misa chastises him, shutting off the remaining showers until only the three closest to him are left. "It's wasteful, you weren't even using those."

With her self-appointed job done, Misa sits down beneath the shower on Lazarus's right, well and truly soaked. She crouches next to him in her best approximation of his stance, and smiles. "So this is what you do?"

Three's not ideal, but it's definitely enough. Lazarus curls a little closer into himself at the slight chill that settles in as a result of the majority of the room's showers being switched off.

"I wasn't, but what if I was?" he asks. "It's the same as throwing away food. What if you had eaten it?"

He smooths his hair away from his face, which is starting to look a lot rosier than it did when he first turned on the showers. He glances sideways at the similarly saturated Japanese girl.

"Don't sound so judgmental. As of right now, you do it, too."

"I'm not being judgmental!" she protests. "I mean, of wasting water and food, yes. But not of this."

With the heat rising to his cheeks, Lazarus almost looks healthy. Misa wonders if she's insane for finding it a little bit cute. Her legs soon start to cramp imitating his position, so she sits back with her legs out and her arms propped up behind her. She would usually be far more wary about touching the surface of a boys' locker room, but she has been staying here long enough to know about Lazarus's cleaning habits. It's probably the cleanest bathroom she has ever set foot in.

Misa closes her eyes and tilts her face back into the spray from the shower head for a few seconds, before leaning forward and wiping the water droplets from her face. "It's kind of nice."

It's strangely comforting to know that she's not judging him for odd behavior, even though Lazarus had been fairly sure that he'd developed a thick skin about certain things. At least toughened scar tissue.

If she was really judging me for "this", she'd have gone by now, even if she's afraid of Shou.

"Well, there's a reason I do it," he says, with a slight edge to his tone that says obviously. "Water cleanses, but it also adapts endlessly. It makes me think of the simple fact that the world, which is mostly water, is in a constant state of flux and that to remain rigid yourself is to ask for it to wear you away."

Misa thinks about that for several seconds. Water adapts endlessly... everyone has to, she supposes is what he's getting at. The Numbered most of all. Adapting to a world of echoes, where the police can't be trusted and monsters exist. Maybe she does risk getting worn away if she can't adapt fast enough. But she also risks having who she is swept away by changing too rapidly, doesn't she?

"You don't know who you'll become if you dive right into changing with the world without any hesitation," she voices at length.

Lazarus leans forward, letting the water pelt his bony shoulder blades through the thin, black fabric of his shirt.

"Well, that's the thing. No one knows," he says softly. "If we did, what need would there be to adapt?"

"But... it's not always a good thing," she insists, brow furrowing. She copies his movement, leaning forward and stretching her arms out. "Some things shouldn't be adapted to."

He tilts his head, as if listening for input from some unseen third party.

"What things would those be? And what acceptable alternatives are there?"

"Things about the world that shouldn't be accepted," Misa answers vaguely. She pulls her knees in and wraps her arms around her legs, staring ahead. "The alternative is to fight it."

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