test drive meme #11

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open July 25th, and apps are open August 1st.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: WORKING TITLE
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect chance to swarm around you and chow down. This time, the Door has brought in a few Working Joes, from the Alien: Isolation video game series.

Once simply androids meant for mundane jobs, working Joes have had their programming altered to isolate and eliminate threats onboard their ship- which they now believe to be Hadriel. Super strong, yet slow and plodding, an android may ask you for identification before throttling you when you don't have the right answer. They are quite sturdy and difficult to destroy without the right tools. Have fun!]


H O P E

SCENARIO TWO: BEAUTIFICATION DUTY
[The city has always looked a little drab, but now with some tools from Hope, it's up to you guys to spruce it up a bit! Your character will find themselves in a shop filled with various paints, home improvement tools, window stickers, streamers, and various other items and tools used to improve the appearance of the neighborhood.

You're encouraged to add your own little flair to the project in order to improve living standards and make Hope the happiest god in the pantheon. So, what will you do? Paint a mural? Sweep up some rubble? Install a skylight! The cave is your oyster.

This is a mini version of our Extinction v2 event this month!]


S O R R O W

SCENARIO THREE: CRY ME A RIVER
[When you wake up in the morning, something feels... off. It feels like you just watched 20 ASPCA commercials in a row and then topped it all off with the first ten minutes of Up. You're beaten down, depressed, upset by all the horrific acts and trauma in the world, and it's enough to make you want to cry.

Turn on the waterworks, because Hadriel is about to have a shortage of tissues and everyone's getting dehydrated. You might run into your neighbor crying while you're scavenging for food, or you might just find that one whole asshole in the entire movie who isn't affected.

Either way, it's time to get some hugs, some kleenex, and maybe a little bit of chocolate. Happy... crying?]

Comments

[hearthebell]

[It's as difficult as it typically is to draw a bead on L's mood and line of thought, but he is noticeably less composed than usual, seeming on-edge and agitated. And really, anything else would be unnatural and strange, given the bizarre circumstances at hand. His toes tense curl against the ground, and his thumb wanders toward his mouth, where his teeth chew and worry at the skin of his already red and stressed knuckle.

Though he hasn't aged noticeably since Mello saw him last, up close it's possible to see the extent of the toll his final case took on him. He looks paler, thinner, the rings around his eyes darker and deeper. This is not a man who was stress-free and in good health at the end of his life.

The "nutshell version" isn't enough. It raises more questions than it answers, and though L's hands and voice remain steady, his knuckle has started to bleed where his teeth pull and prick at it continuously.]

The last thing I remember is a heart attack. You're saying that I survived it? And forgot everything that happened in the last five years...?

[He crouches, either because it's a default position for him to think about things deeply or because standing without his vision spotting is growing more difficult by the second.]

By "gods," do you mean "shinigami?" What happened to the Kira case while I was...

[In a coma? Suffering memory loss each day? Is this not the first time we've had this conversation? The pieces don't fit.]

I need to establish contact with Roger. I know that by now the access codes and passwords have likely changed, but it's unacceptable that five years have passed that I have no recollection of. It's unacceptable that I haven't been a part of this.

[The chisel and hammer seem so pointless, now. He's found one of his important connections, and though the years that have passed are jarring, to say the least, there's probably an easier way to get out of this city. Even if it couldn't be found before he arrived, now that he's here, there's hope. There has to be.]

You can get me those things, can't you, Mello?

[torrefied]

[Mello has failed many times over in his arguably short life, but he has perhaps never felt so much like a failure than he does now, with L looking to him for things he cannot provide and answers that he doesn't want to give. How do you tell someone you hold in such high regard that they're dead? L's response sheds light at least on that much - he remembers the heart attack that killed him, but believes he somehow survived it.

The question as to the nature of the gods is the easier one to answer, so that is where Mello starts.]

They're not shinigami. There are five of them, named Hope, Fear, Rage, Delight, and Sorrow. Anyone can see and speak with them - I've talked with all of them except Rage and Sorrow, personally. They all feed off emotion, each according to their name. I don't know if I believe they're actually gods, but they are powerful - capable of influencing what we feel, and our actions, to a certain extent. At least one of them - Hope - has enough power to resurrect those who've died.

[And that's something else Mello knows from personal experience, though he keeps that under wraps for the moment in favor of bridging into the more difficult parts of what L has asked him. He steps in close to the chiseled wall and sits on the ground near L with his back to it, one knee bent, and fights the desire to pull the hood of his jacket back over his head so he can hide underneath it.]

You didn't survive.

[It's easy to understand L's confusion - people survive heart attacks all the time. But no one recovers once the Death Note has their name.]

Kira is ... not quite finished for me, but the case is closed for Near. He's here too. He won.

[It feels like an almost unnecessary addendum, mentioning that Near was able to defeat Kira. Of course he would. Surely even L would know that, just as he would know that Mello didn't win. He didn't choose him as his heir, after all. Mello bows his head, allowing his hair to fall forward and shadow his scarred face.]

I'll do everything I can for you, of course, but the only way you'll be able to get in touch with Roger is if he's brought here too. There's no way of connecting to any of the worlds outside - we've tried.

[How disappointed L must be with him, he thinks. Mello has never cared much what people think of him, with only a few notable exceptions. L is one of them.]

... Sorry.

[hearthebell]

[L rocks back on his heels, almost rhythmically, hugging his shins as Mello speaks. He's completely silent, tucking his chin against his knees and staring at nothing through his dark lashes, trying to put images to concepts that sound like they might have been imagined and brought to life and form just to mock him. When Mello steps closer and sits beside him, leaning against the stone at both their backs, L twists his torso and presses a palm roughly against the other's shoulder, forcibly turning him to better see his eyes.

Anger and distrust are alive in L's, but they fade quickly, burning out and leaving the black glass cold. He withdraws his hand and turns away, shoulders curling forward.]

You're not lying.

[The words sound hollow, some uneasy neutral ground between relief and disgust. Even if what Mello is telling him is impossible, every indication says that he believes he's telling the truth and isn't trying to pull the wool over his mentor's eyes.

He nods in response to Mello's soft apology, taking a deep breath to compose his emotions and his thoughts. He's still L, even if he's been, as Mello put it, "resurrected." The duty of a legacy still weighs on his thin shoulders, and if Near is here, too, that means he's under twice the obligation to present a strong front and figure this out. Just because no way has been found, after all, doesn't mean there's no way. That's practically his job description, finding that way that no one else has. Though death at the hands of Kira has left him feeling beaten, washed-out and used-up and anemic and weak, perhaps it's not so inappropriate if Hope has brought him here. ]

...I understand. In that case, I'll need to know where I can educate myself on what's happened here, the beings that comprise the ruling class and hold power, political and otherwise, and of course I'll need to find and make contact with Near as well.

[He does not assume that the two live together. Truly, there's very little he can assume about the volatile pair.

He doesn't address the obvious state of disrepair his body is in, needing food, rest and at least a little bit of medical attention for the blisters and bite-marks riddling his hands and bare feet. When he thinks of it, it's likely that he'll ask for ice cream.]

[torrefied]

[Mello doesn't resist being repositioned; when L commands your attention, you give it to him, without question. And he doesn't mind being scrutinized, because that's the sort of thing to be expected from L - it's what he does, examine things from all possible angles until he can see the truth of it. Mello does his best not to shrink under the other man's gaze, but he can't help feeling as if the end result of this brief analysis is still that he is found lacking. Maybe it's in the dark circles that ring his own eyes, the scar over the left half of his face that proclaims one of his biggest failures. Maybe L just knows, can see straight through into the gaping void that lives inside of him.]

I wouldn't lie to you about that.

[L is finished looking him over, so Mello drops his attention to his own hands resting in his lap. Idly, he picks at the cuff of the glove on his right hand. He probably wouldn't lie to L about anything, but he knows better than to speak in such absolutes.]

Anyway, it's too stupid a story to be a lie. Everyone knows that the best lies sound reasonable and contain an element of truth. A group of gods kidnapping people and using them as batteries is the stuff of fantasy.

[Or horror, as the case may be.]

There was talk of putting together a guide for newcomers, but I don't think it's surfaced yet. I was helping compile an encyclopedia of sorts about the local monster population, but - other things became a priority.

[Things like Sharon wreaking her own personal hell on everyone. Things like shooting her down when she refused to stop, then spending the next month on the move so the City Guard would have a harder time catching up to him. Things like being murdered himself, then forced into a community service sentence. It's not a lie to omit details.]

There's a library here, though the majority of the books are written in languages that are nothing like any I've studied. There's no real historical record of what transpired here before the Door began to bring people in from other realities. I asked Delight about it, once, but it didn't seem to be important to them. Some of the so-called gods have been resurrected by Hope as well - Rage, Delight, and Sorrow, though I've only been witness to the last one.

[And it had been exceedingly uncomfortable, entailing a period of intense regret, coming close on the heels of killing Sharon, an act that had no effect on the nightmare reality she brought to the city and only served to complicate things for him - and by extension, Near.]

As far as the people here, there's no real ruling body, just a self-styled City Guard that has delusions of importance. They're not especially effective, though they claim to be concerned with keeping the peace.

[It took them an entire month to catch up with Mello, and he was dead at the time. That's hardly a ringing endorsement of their capabilities. His expression twists into an ugly frown as he recalls this, though it quickly dissipates as he continues making his explanation.]

I can tell you where Near is staying, but you'll want to call him first. He's put certain security measures into place, and he's the only one who can take them down. Hope gives everyone a phone upon arrival, and they're all networked with each other. People tend to talk about themselves quite freely, in fact, but you can also call individuals directly. I don't trust that it's entirely secure, but it can be useful, to a certain extent.

[hearthebell]

[L's something of a paradox, in that he is wildly adaptable in his line of work, but rather resists change on a personal level. His mannerisms aren't quite impulsive, but they're childish, with no respect for personal space or comfort, and that's never not been true. Fortunately, Mello is probably better equipped to deal with him than most strangers he'll be required to interact with here in Hadriel. Unfortunately, he's in an extremely minuscule minority, meaning that in spite of any disappointment or soul-piercing, revealing analysis, L needs Mello if he has any hope of surviving meaningfully in an environment unlike anything he's ever thrived in.

The level stare he answers with says, plainly, you couldn't lie to me, as if the prospect that Mello might even attempt it under any circumstances has nothing but disdain from him.]

Newcomers? You make it sound like people arrive with fair regularity. If so... at least a pamphlet would likely be beneficial toward curbing some of the initial confusion.

[Not that L himself is going to volunteer to write it, but that's beside the point. He's only concerned with educating himself, after all, and he's better-equipped to absorb large amounts of information than the average masses that might follow him. A library will probably suffice, and even now, he feels like he'll be able to translate at least some of the books. He's never been in a situation before where he hasn't.]

Who is the City Guard, and how were they elected to their position? Are they successful when it comes to that objective, "keeping the peace?"

[L has more questions than are practical, out here in the street where he probably looks homeless and hungry rather than an like an intellectual powerhouse preparing to shake things up.

He nods, unsurprised that Near's measures are stringent. He would have expected nothing less from either of his successors.]

I have that phone, as well as the one I used primarily during the investigation, but I haven't established an identity or backstory yet. I wanted to refrain until I had a better picture of what I was dealing with.

[Actually, he had hoped he wouldn't have to. He's trying to carve through a cave wall, after all. Escape is pretty clearly on his mind.]

On that subject, I should know what names both of you are using here.

[torrefied]

[He's not wrong - for someone like Mello who grew up with the indoctrination to see L as the pinnacle of achievement, someone who believed it whole-heartedly, it would be nearly impossible to lie to L. There would have to be a damn good reason for it, and this just isn't one.]

There does seem to be a cycle, with new arrivals turning up every few weeks. Having a document readily available would be the most efficient solution for disseminating the necessary information.

[Things like who their hosts are, what they want, what sorts of things newcomers can expect to be subjected to while they're here. Mello nods; he really should ask Chris about the project once he has his phone back. Their last words exchanged weren't especially friendly - most of them haven't been, in fact - but enough time has elapsed that Mello might be able to approach him about it without getting an earful about how shitty Chris thinks his methods are, in the interest of working toward the greater good. Chris seems like the type to be swayed by that line of logic, at least.

On the topic of the City Guard, Mello's expression turns sour again, his words taking a hard edge when he speaks of them.]

They weren't elected at all - as far as I can tell, they appointed themselves. A woman named Maketh Tua seems to be heading the effort, along with maybe three or four others. They're completely ineffective, little more than glorified thugs with delusions of grandeur. If they think they're keeping peace here, they're sadly mistaken.

[There's no need to elaborate on exactly how he determined this, though. Mello isn't keen to spell out some of his more spectacular failures for L - at least not of his own volition. But he won't lie if L chooses to press for details.]

I'm just Mello here. And Near ... I don't know who exactly he's talked with, but I don't think he's using any other alias. There didn't seem to be a need to build an elaborate story - the circumstances of all of us being here is unusual enough. And I'm not a hundred percent certain, but I don't think anyone else is from the same reality.

[Mello shifts, turning his whole body toward L, noticeably more attentive on the other man than he has been since he sat down.]

We haven't really broadcasted the fact that we know each other. There's one girl here who knows, but that's a result of circumstances beyond my control. I can't speak for Near, but I'll agree to whatever terms you think are best when it comes to you - for example, if you think it will be safer if I pretend I don't know you.

[hearthebell]

[The whole situation is a strange one, likely unique to the child monsters hailing from that particular orphanage. Founded when L was old enough to be recognized as a talent that was a force of nature, but young enough to be understood as fragile, it served a necessary but morbid purpose: to replace him, if being cunning and brilliant and secretive turned out not to be enough.

When Mello turns more fully toward him, L's eyes linger on the burn scars. So much can happen in five years, and therefore, there is so much on which he is limited to speculation. So much that even the information Mello is trying to provide him with, quickly and efficiently, feels like a mere drop in an endless and ponderous bucket.

It sounds like he has his work cut out for him here, provided, of course, that he can get his head together enough to be the myth that Mello has heard so much about. That creature is still in him, if it ever existed to the spectacular level Mello believes in, but the tail ending of the Kira investigation has left at least parts of him in shambles. He has to sort his own scattered thoughts before he makes any kind of attempt at sorting out this new environment; in hindsight, trying to carve through a cave wall was ill-advised, impulsive, and hopeless, and L at his best wouldn't have resorted to it without a lot of very cool-minded and distant calculation. He always toed the line between genius and madman, and the blisters he's needlessly created on his palms and fingers leans a little too far in the wrong direction for comfort.]

Understood. I can't be "L" here, but I'll give it some thought and keep both of you informed. The truth is that if we're here, others from our reality might be, even if you don't recognize them.

[He sounds exhausted by the possibility. One-thousand cases, under L's title alone, not counting the cases he took on as Deneuve and Coil. He's crossed fates with many unsavory people, and pissed off just as many. While faces from the Kira case might arrive, from any point in time, it's just as likely that the Winchester Mad Bombings, the B.B. Murder Cases, the Detective Wars, will come back to haunt him.

His expression lifts slightly, not brightening but blanking in surprise at Mello's implication.]

I don't think it's necessary to go quite that far. We want to be cognizant of the fact that we might not remain alone forever, and someone who knows our faces but isn't friendly could come along eventually, but there's undeniable value in an alliance, as I hope you and Near have discovered by this point.

[His brow knits. It would be easy for him to construct something false that feels real. He could have never heard of Kira or L or Wammy's. He could be average, or boring... but if Light Yagami or Misa Amane were to arrive, he would be known and revealed. He has no doubt. It would work temporarily, but not forever.]

We shouldn't pretend anything that we can't sustain long-term, under any possible circumstance. How much do people typically care about these types of connections? By "the same reality," I assume you mean ours, and that there are other groups that are similarly but not identically linked. I know that you and Near would take note of such things, but in general, are people overly interested, or more or less indifferent?

[torrefied]

[He acutely feels the questions that L doesn't ask in looking him over, the way the other man's gaze holds on the scar that mars half his face; once again, he fights the impulse to retreat underneath the hood of his jacket. He will have to answer those questions at some point, he knows this - L will want to know exactly what happened in the five years after his death, how Near was able to defeat Kira and what role Mello played in that particular piece of theater. He thinks, briefly, that L will probably not approve of what he's done - not necessarily for the extremity of the measures or the illegality of his methods, because L too was known to take extreme measures and work outside of the law - but because he wasn't successful. Mello did many things that could qualify as success, but none were where it was most important.

Then again, maybe it won't really matter. As much as Mello trained to be L's successor, he realized five years ago when he left the House that he was more truly a successor to Beyond Birthday, another broken child from the same twisted factory, another driven failure. Near was L's true heir. Maybe L saw that in Mello well before Mello ever realized it for himself, and maybe that's why he chose to tell him the story of the LABB Murders when he did.]

Yeah, I've considered that. And I've been keeping an eye out for signs of anything that seems familiar. Most people here give their names and show their faces too freely to come from a place where Kira exists, but I haven't ruled it out entirely. Nobody seems terribly interested in who comes from where and when, but ...

[His mouth presses into a thin line. He needs to disclose this, for L's safety, with which Mello is concerned.]

I've been careful not to lead anyone back to Near, because there are certain people here who've taken a particular disliking to me. I'm doing my best to mitigate that, but - I wouldn't want you to be endangered by associating with me. That's all.

[hearthebell]

[There's no blatant judgment or disgust in L's impassive features; he's as close as a witness can possibly come to being truly neutral and impartial, at least on the outside. It's true that there's no reassurance or comfort, but there's also no disdain. That, at least, has to be something of a comfort to Mello. As well as the fact that, for now at least, all of the details L will be hungry for are too cumbersome to broach barefoot and dusty and apparently just raised from the grave.

L does a fantastic job of hiding it, but he will need some time to regroup and pull himself together before he can make heads or tails of even the simple parts of all this.]

You've been protecting Near?

[He sounds, if not surprised, then definitely interested.]

Tell me which certain people, and why they've taken a disliking to you.

[torrefied]

[Mello's expression immediately tightens, like a guitar string twisted far past tuned. Discomfited, he drops his gaze to his hands again, once more picking at the cuff of his glove.]

You don't have to say it like that.

[But it's not a denial. He can't lie to L about this, either. He and Near have never gotten along, and the fault for that mostly rests on Mello's shoulders, but the sense of loyalty to L with which the House worked to inculcate its children is strong, and despite the fact that he left the House years ago, Mello in particular felt it stronger than most. Near was L's successor, and what Mello came to realize in the week before his arrival in Hadriel was that L's survival was more important than his own.]

Several weeks back, there was an incident. There's a girl here named Sharon, and she has a lot of power - supernatural power, I guess you could say. She was able to affect reality, change the state of the city from what you see now to something much more nightmarish. And there was a boom in the monster population, of course. She put everyone here in danger in an attempt to attack the gods who hold us here.

[Most importantly, Near.]

No one else was willing to even try to stop her, not even the City Guard. It was an extreme situation, and it called for drastic measures. No one else would step up to handle it. So I did. I thought - I tried reasoning with her, but she didn't listen. I thought the effects of what she'd done to the landscape would dissipate if she were incapacitated.

[As in dead. And there's more to that story, too, things Sharon told him after she was resurrected about who she is and where she comes from and the things that have been done to her - but he's promised to keep those things secret. And they're not germane to the scope of what L's asked him, either. Technically, it's not a lie.]

You can imagine how well that didn't go over. I know it wasn't a good decision, but it was the best one available at the time. I couldn't just sit idle and wring my hands and wait for someone else to do something about it.

[He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off his bent knee, fidgety with anxiety in anticipation of L's judgment.]

So that's put me in the City Guard's line of sight, obviously. Sharon's friends, too, unsurprisingly - there's a woman named Bianca, you'll want to watch out for her in particular. Most people probably find her charming, but I find her incredibly tiresome, and dangerous. She carries some kind of energy pistol that I've never seen before, but it's quite effective.

[He pauses, swallows hard at the memory of Bianca stunning him into paralysis with her gun, then slicing a blade deep into his throat. No need to mention that to L at the moment.]

There are others who've been vocal about disagreeing with my methods, but I don't think they're as much of a threat. There's a kid named Chris - he's reasonably intelligent, but incredibly naive. He seems to think that asking nicely will always get you everything you want or need.

[And that's almost never been true, in Mello's experience.]

[hearthebell]

[L's doubtless aware of the negativity in Mello's reaction; not that his own serene, blank features betray it. In so many ways, his pale, doll-like face is just a mask, like so many others he wears. Most young adults in their mid-twenties have at least a few fine lines around their mouths and eyes where they emote the most frequently, but one of the things that contributes to the appearance of L's extreme youth is the fact that he doesn't seem to possess any of them, created by smiles or frowns.

He listens, absorbing where he cannot contribute meaningfully or in an informed manner. He hasn't been here, after all. Much of it is out of his death simply due to the fact that he lacks context and doesn't know who these people are; part of it is the simple unbelievability of everything even after finding out that Shinigami are real. That revelation is recent enough that L is still attempting to wrap his head around it, and doesn't have the energy to try to grasp all of what Mello's telling him at once.

He gives it a good show of trying, though, to the point where it might not be immediately clear that he is failing in his own quiet, private way to connect the concepts in a way that feels whole and sane. ]

I suppose it would be useful at this time to ask about allies. Who do you rely on, here, for what you cannot get yourself?

[In some ways, L is startlingly not-proud. The acknowledgment that no man is an island is one of them, supplemented and supported by his highly parasitic lifestyle.]

[torrefied]

[This is perhaps one of the biggest ways in which Mello differs from both L and Near - he is an island, more or less, and that's partly by circumstance, but partly by his own design, too. Alliances are useful, but they're only ever a measure of degrees, and they can be easily broken. Rod was a good ally, a strategic choice, but ultimately, he and the rest of the Mafia were mere tools Mello used in furthering his own aims, and Mello did not mourn any of them when they were killed. Working with Matt was the closest thing Mello's ever come to true teamwork, and even that was fraught with deception in the end, and would have resulted in Matt's unintended death.

Sharon is an ally, by Mello's estimation, but the way that alliance developed is too personal to share even with L. Besides, Mello is certain that L wouldn't, couldn't understand. Most of his knowledge of the other man may be by reputation, but that reputation is enough of an indication - L always won, always solved every case, right up until the very last one, the one that killed him. He wasn't forged and refined by fire and pain the way Mello and Sharon both were. L is a victor, not an underdog; he cannot understand what it is like to lose, over and over again, and keep fighting in spite of those losses.]

No one, really. There isn't anyone here I trust enough to call an ally.

[Trust is also always a measure of degrees, never an absolute. To trust implicitly is incredibly foolish. Mello didn't need the House's training to know that - it was a lesson he had learned well before he ever set foot on English soil. Mello has only truly ever had himself to rely on for a very long time.]

People here are fairly trusting, though. They're content to play at civility, for the most part. There's a clinic not far from here - no real medical staff, but there's a Dr. Banner who's qualified to administer basic first aid. Kate, the pink-haired girl, is an impulsive idiot, but she's not actively harmful most of the time.

[Even when she was, in augmenting Sharon's powers, she claimed afterward that she'd miscalculated the reach of the effects.]

There are some shops toward the center of town, and you can find necessities there, and food, though I'd steer clear of anything with meat in it - apparently some of the gods contaminated the meat supply with human flesh at one point, and it coincided with an outbreak of wendigo spirits, so it made things unpleasant for a while. The gods themselves will sometimes grant requests, but usually only when there's some benefit to be found for them. And Near ... well, he's useless at anything physical, but he should be able to provide you with any information you might need. He's been here almost as long as I have.

[And he's learned defensive magic, which is helpful in an absurd place like this. The house where he lives is probably the most fortified location in the entire city.]

You can find him in one of the houses, number 1202. Most people here don't know that we know each other, so if you tell him I sent you, I'd think he would find that believable.

[No one except Light Yagami ever dared to pretend to be L, after all. Even Beyond Birthday wasn't foolish enough to actually claim L's name for himself, only hint at it in his mockery.]

If he needs convincing ... tell him this: "One must be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten off wolves." He should recognize that as coming from me.

[hearthebell]

[Of all the things taught and stressed as vital in the House, independence is not one of them. A headstrong detective is one who can be a volatile wild-card, certainly, but might also be fickle and unreliable variable when seconds count and lives are on the line. While L certainly took his share of risks, there was safety and comfort in knowing that in the end, Watari protected and transported him and saw to his mundane needs. Though L had a childhood, like everyone had a childhood, he hasn't been self-sufficient in long enough to matter. Alliances are important; alliances are everything, in fact, and without them, L is just a shabby twenty-something who looks and handles himself like someone much younger and less capable.

He shakes his head slightly, as if to contest the point that to call someone an ally, they must be trusted. L has probably only ever trusted one person, Watari, but he has had many more allies. Sometimes it's necessary to form bonds, even if it means sleeping with one eye open.]

Dr. Banner? I'll remember.

[He should, if anything, probably see a doctor. He still feels like he needs an outside third party to tell him that his heart is in fact still beating, not to mention those bruises and scrapes and blisters. His feet alone look like they need attention before he scuffs them down to bone.

Much of what Mello is throwing at him is taking longer than usual to process. Human meat and wendigos are hardly less believable than shinigami, though, so he doesn't believe he's in a particularly reasonable place to protest or doubt. For now, acceptance rather has to be his default, as much as he hates to live and experience the world that way.][It's not a braggart's boast. L says so with the true sincerity of someone with realistic faith in his abilities.]

The reason you can't take me to him now... is it because you're not speaking at the moment? Or is there another reason?

[torrefied]

It's ...

[It's Complicated, which L will learn the longer he spends time with the both of them. Mello presses his mouth into a slight frown.]

We're not speaking because it's dangerous to do so. I'm being monitored by the City Guard right now. It's temporary, but I don't want anyone knowing where Near is, or that we're connected.

[I don't want him paying for my mistakes. But Mello would never admit to that aloud, even to L.]

[hearthebell]

["Complicated" is just one word that L knows already or can guess when it comes to the volatile and often antagonistic relationship between Mello and Near. Mello is incendiary and determined to be noticed and recognized and effective; Near is calm, neutral, and unbothered by emotional displays. Of course the two would clash.

He is, however, encouraged marginally by the way that Mello actually sounds like this particular situation is born of caution and protectiveness, rather than a simple desire not to inhabit the same space as his rival.

Of course, it's an answer to a question that just raises more pressing questions. A shadow of disapproval falls over L's features.]

You're being monitored? Why?

[Isn't it a primary rule of what we were all taught that it's important to remain largely under the radar, if we can?]

[torrefied]

[Staying under the radar is one of the rules Mello threw out the proverbial window when he left the House. There are still times when it's necessary, of course, but the persona he crafted after it became clear that he was not going to be the next L depended on being the bombastic sort who gets noticed by the right people. It's not L's method, though, and he doesn't need to see L's expression to feel the disapproval rolling off the other man in waves. Once again, he fights the urge to disappear under the hood of his jacket, settling instead for wrapping gloved fingers around the rosary that hangs from his neck.]

I told you. They didn't approve of the way I dealt with Sharon.

[He frowns, slowly rolling the rosary beads under his thumb.]

I was incapacitated at one point, and they were able to take my phone from me. Normally I wouldn't care, but there are sensitive messages stored on it - I'll get it back after I finish spending two weeks being their errand boy, and that's the only reason I agreed to comply.

[hearthebell]

[The whole thing sounds like a colossal trainwreck, the more L hears about it. He keeps his breathing even and his features composed, even though his heart is pounding under his ribcage in a way that it's a miracle if Mello can't hear it. ]

What do you know about what they can and can't monitor, here? If good came of it... knowledge to that effect would be something.

[torrefied]

The Guard? They're just ordinary people - well, except for the talking hedgehog.

[Yeah, that's a thing.]

I've yet to see any technology more advanced than the phones, so they can't really plant bugs or wiretaps or anything like that. I check for them anyway, but I haven't uncovered anything of the sort, and I'm extremely thorough. They don't have any real authority and I think everyone probably knows it. Like I said, the only reason I agreed to go along with what they wanted was to get my phone back ... maybe make them think they know how to control me.

[He smiles - thin, tight-lipped.]

I've always found it useful to allow people to underestimate me.

[hearthebell]

[L's smooth brow creases in frustration at the seemingly nonsensical reference. It sounds absurd enough to be a code word of some kind. "Talking hedgehog?" Some of this, Mello might be better off leaving until L isn't fresh from the colosseum in his bare feet, still adjusting to being alive again.]

So they control some resources, but you don't consider them a threat.

[It's pale, but he returns the smile. It's also something he's found useful, common ground that they share.]

[torrefied]

No, they're not a real threat. Without permanent death, the most they could attempt is torture, and I doubt any of them truly has the stomach for it.

[Maketh, maybe - she'd suggested she had methods that could be used to break Mello if he didn't agree to comply, but there is no breaking of someone who is so thoroughly broken already. He shrugs.]

Pain may be an effective deterrent for some people, but I'm not one of them. And anyway, it would be too heavy of a blow to their reputation. They're ineffective, but I don't think they're that stupid.

[hearthebell]

[L shakes his head, shaggy hair waving slightly with the gentle motion. He knows from experience, and suspects that Mello might as well, that torture requires a very strong stomach. If not a lack of empathy, the ability to suspend and compartmentalize it completely, at least. Knowing that there are beings that might or might not be capable of it isn't exactly a comforting thought.]

Tell me more about their reputation, if you would.

[torrefied]

They really don't have much of one to speak of. I told you, they did nothing to try to get Sharon to stop, and they only took it upon themselves to assert their self-claimed authority on me when I was incapacitated - I'd managed to evade them for weeks before that. I don't even think they were trying, honestly. The man called Nick talks a good game about the City Guard handling things but again, I've yet to see them do anything of note. The woman who seems to be in charge - Maketh Tua is her name - used to serve a dictator but claims to be on a path of atonement for her past misdeeds. She's the one who suggested she'd break me "like an unruly cadet."

[Here Mello pauses to scoff loudly, picking up a stray pebble at his side and tossing it off into the distance.]

She has no idea who I am if she thinks she can threaten me like that.

[hearthebell]

[L supposes that if a reputation amounts to "not much of one," a heavy blow could deal more damage than one might otherwise expect. He nods, and though his glassy eyes lack their usual laser-intent focus, he's still present, still listening, still devoting attention to things he can't hope to fully grasp until he's been here longer and explored further on his own time and terms.]

Maketh Tua.

[He extracts the name that seems the most important; even if she's no longer a dictator, "in charge" implies that she at least wields a great deal of influence.]

She might, or might not have any idea. Even with the limited experience I have with gods, I know that assuming or underestimating anything about them is risky. There's always the possibility that she knows, and is fully capable of what she threatens.

[If L seems shaken as he speaks, it's because he's freshly resurrected from death at the hands of a god he initially disrespected. His contempt for the illogical nature of Shinigami existence had come through clearly, and though it might have had nothing to do with the reason he died, it can't have helped him.]

[torrefied]

She's hardly a god.

[Again, he scoffs loudly.]

And don't worry, I haven't underestimated her. Anyone who truly intends to do something like what she claimed wouldn't threaten first, they'd do it. Threats are about fear, about using fear as your weapon instead of an actual weapon. They're only effective on those who are easily scared or intimidated, and I'm not.

[hearthebell]

It largely depends on the person, but... for the most part, you're right. Threatening to do something is like admitting that you'd rather not do it, if you have a choice in the matter.

It is true that threats are not effective on people who aren't easily intimidated.

[Not that fear doesn't have a purpose; it means self-preservation, at its best, and L can't pretend that intimidation isn't very valuable when it can be harnessed and wielded effectively. He's had some practice at just that, and gets the feeling that Mello has, as well.]