Unpopcorning of L

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

Pop!
There is nothing so disorienting as one moment, knowing where you are, and the next, not.

That’s not to say L has an idea where he just was. But wherever it was, he was content there. He may not have had all the answers to his questions, or perhaps he doesn’t just remember them, but it was a comfortable state to be in.

Whereas now, he doesn’t.

It’s not very often that L is completely confused. Whether or not he has all the answers to the problem, he can usually formulate some sort of guess. The universe tends to conform to certain rational standards; if an unseen figure sets tea down at his elbow, it is usually Watari. If a woman is missing and her husband is on the television pleading for her safe return, he is usually responsible. They are simple formulas that, while not always universal, get him comfortably through the day.

There is nothing comfortable, universal, or logical about this. He takes a step, slips, and finds himself sprawled on the floor and coated in what smells like butter. He discerns that he’s surrounded by popcorn.

Ahead of him is a door. In that list of rational standards, there’s another rule. Doors lead somewhere. So L makes his way towards it, gingerly. The slightly scrawny, extremely pale, twenty year old detective (who already has deep dark circles etched underneath his eyes) pokes his head out uncertainly.

“Excuse me?”

[ooc: this L is pre-canon, and will remember nothing of past interactions here. Under new management.]

Comments

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

"I've seen the files, what remains of them. There are no photographs, but a few likenesses, enough to make an educated guess." An almost imperceptible pause. "And a correct one."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"If you have my files, then in your time, I am no longer L."

Dead, or incapacitated to the point of no longer being able to fill the position, (which is worse, because it means comatose, a hostage, or brain damaged,) or some third alternative which he has not considered. He can think of nothing that would make him voluntarily retire, but there might conceivably be something.

No, he's probably dead.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

Well, it's an inevitable conclusion, isn't it? And at one point Near would have backed down, contented or even relieved to be nothing beyond a potential successor, but that time was passed. He was L now, however conflicted he might be about it at times. If he wasn't, everything about his life had been wasted.

"That is correct."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"Congratulations," he says, sounding kind, placid, and completely ruthless all at once.

The important thing is that there is a successor. The rest becomes immaterial. Part of him wonders, and wants to ask, how young was he? Was it for an important cause? Will it hurt?

But he is L. He knows better.

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

"And now that that's established," I break in. "It seems, though, that here, we can pursue our own course, our own identities. And, I suggest," I add, flopping down on the bed and grabbing a chocolate bar, "that if this is going to continue, you both go somewhere else. I need a nap."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"I will leave you, if one of you could point me in the right direction."

He still has absolutely no idea of what he's supposed to be doing here.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

"Would you like help finding a room? Or there is a bar downstairs," Near cringed internally at the thought of liquor, and thought it unlikely that L would choose to drink, "If you would rather just relax."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

He lets out a breath- it might be a laugh- because little Near is now older than him and asking him downstairs for a drink.

"I think a room would be best."

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

Nodding, he leads L out into the hall. Most of the rooms here are empty; apart from Matt's room and the room he shares with Mello, this section of hallway is vacant. "The rooms on this side seem to be a little larger," Near says. "But the rooms on this side have a view."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"How high up is this floor?"

Casually, as though he isn't completely paranoid. It might be nice to see out, but nor does he want anyone seeing- or climbing- in.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

A good question, and one he'd made a point of noting when selecting a room. "We're some six floors up. It is quite easy to watch the countryside in relative privacy."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"Then I would not mind having a window."

He doesn't need the space for much, anyways.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

"The windowseats are quite pleasant," Near agreed blandly. Somewhat belatedly taking mental stock of just how noisy he and Mello are at times, he points to one a few doors down. "That one might be acceptable."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

He inclines his head.

"I would like to speak with you, and Mello too, again. Perhaps later, after he is finished napping? If he is amenable."

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

"You know where to find us now. It would be nice to speak with you further, and I am sure Mello would be delighted."

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

"I will. Thank you, Near."

Making for his new room. Space, and time, to turn this over in his head, to sort through it.

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

"Good idea. I don't think we should let Near drink anymore. At least not what they serve here. It's potent."

I stretch on the bed, noting Near's blush. If it weren't for the way he was looking at me, I'd almost think he was mad at me.

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

L's eyebrows go up.