ryuuzaki: (L Change the World)
"RYUUZAKI" (L - Death Note) ([personal profile] ryuuzaki) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2013-10-14 01:23 am

Here Comes A Feeling You Thought You’d Forgotten (an OPEN and SHUT case)

CHARACTERS: “Ryuuzaki” (L) and others
LOCATION: So there’s this spaceship--
WARNINGS: Cake and death. (L watches various people die in several of his memories. The same may be true in the memories he picks up from others.)
SUMMARY: Some of L’s October empathy links, plus the potential for open logs!
NOTES: Plotting post; IC inbox; IC memory writeups from his POV (still a work in progress; there’s a lot to get through, but I’m doing them for cut-and-paste convenience). Any format (prose or brackets) is fine.

Maybe Ryuuzaki is in Comms, or maybe he’s in the Oxygen Garden, or in a library, in which case another person’s sudden presence will certainly catch his attention. Maybe you’re attracted by the smell of coffee in a kitchen, and you turn a corner to learn who's responsible for it.

Or maybe things you’ve been experiencing lately have caused you to put two and two together and seek him out. It’s not like his number on the network doesn’t tell you where he’s staying, it’s not like you can’t easily determine where he spends most of the rest of his time, and it’s not like whatever is happening has afforded him much privacy from you, or you from him.

At least it's an interesting situation.

cargojet: (Villainous headtilt)

[personal profile] cargojet 2013-11-09 06:05 pm (UTC)(link)
The vast hangar echoes with the sound of shuffling footsteps. Standing by a black people carrier, you watch anxiously as a line of men and women in orange jump suits ar directed across the hangar bay. Among them is your brother, Peter. That one is Mohinder Suresh, the geneticist. They've all been drugged. Underneath the burlap sacks that cover their heads, plastic tubes drip a constant feed of sedative to keep them under. Chains manacle their wrists. They hear nothing and see nothing--which is good, because the guards escorting them are carrying AK-47s.

You're anxious, you know this is wrong, but the hurt you feel for this betrayal, this sacrifice, is dwarfed by your certainty that it needs to be done. Without action, these people will destroy the world. Yes, even your brother. He means well, but he just can't help it. Actions have consequences, and when you act with your emotions and not your common sense, things get out of hand. That was how it happened before.

There's a sense of urgency, too. There's not much time to pull this off. The plane has a limited take off window; its cargo is undisclosed. This whole situation breaks a host of conventions, not least those signed in Geneva, and they can't be caught. The President would never take responsibility, it would be on your shoulders and yours alone.

The burden, for now, is heavy. But perhaps one day, if everything goes as it should, you'll be the one who doesn't have to take responsibility--at least in public. The Oval Office has its perks, and it doesn't seem so far off any more.

You wait. Seeing it in practice is somewhat harder to take, but you have a facade to maintain, and Danko is as dangerous to you as he is to them. A sinister looking man, he approaches, his grey eyes hardly hesitating to meet yours, and for a moment you have to look away.

"We have a couple of situations," he says.

"Let me guess. Sylar." Of course Sylar. Danko was always going to underestimate him, go in guns blazing and fail. You half wanted him to, just to have that card to play against him in the future, but the other half secretly hoped Sylar would go down easy. He's the most dangerous of them.

"We lost communication with the team."

"I told you to put a bullet in the back of his head. Right here." How hard is that? You smack the back of your own head to show him where you mean. "The last thing I need is a body count to try and explain."

"We're sending a clean up crew, but there's something else." For a moment a rush of nervousness overtakes you. Did they kill someone? That's not how this is supposed to go. Danko motions toward the waiting black humvees, and another prison is brought over, escorted by three men. A girl, you realise--but there can only be one girl. Claire. You know it even before she gets to you, and you know, too, that Danko is playing a hand against you, one that he just won. You have to hold your nerve now more than ever.

"Uncuff her." You gather her in your arms. Danko is watching, disapproving, but it's not his place to question. He's just the hired help. "Give us a minute." You try to sound like you're not well aware of all the eyes on you.

In your arms, as Claire comes round, she breathes her hatred up at you. "I knew."

"I know."

"You're never gonna get away with this."

It takes every inch of your being not to turn and look at Danko as you escort Claire back to the unmarked car. Fortunately she doesn't fight too hard. "Some day you might forgive me, Claire. Some day you might not. The important thing is that you get home--" you open the car door. The difficult part is getting her into the vehicle. "--Right now, and forget everything you just seen."

You know she's going to argue. She always argues. She never makes it easy.

"What makes you think I'm going to do that?" The guard beside you pretends not to hear a word. Danko doesn't try to pretend; you can see his reflection in the waxed shine of the black car, as clearly as though you were looking straight at him. "What? Are you going to threaten my family?"

"Claire, I've given you a free pass. Don't make me change my mind." He should say: 'Don't make me have to make an example of you in front of these people', because that's what it comes down to. She's his weakness, and one that he can ill afford.

"Where are you taking them?" Finally she starts asking questions instead of playing up, but you've already folded her into the car, giving you the chance not to have to answer. You give the order for her to be driven home, watch the car leave, and turn to watch the last of the prisoners as they're escorted up onto the plane. One crisis averted; thirty more to go.

One of them is your brother. You've been lucky this time, one of them might have been Claire. But if you don't play as well as you should, then one day one of them might very well be you.


[ There are bad days and there are worse days. Today is only a bad day, the real impact of what's happening not having settled in first. They seem like disjointed, unnecessary memories, things that don't mean too much, and he doesn't feel like he has to worry too much about what other people have seen, because if it's as fractured as that, they can't have got much detail.

Still, having other people poking around in his head at all is hardly for the best; the paranoia he's been feeling isn't just his own, a dull hum in the background, and Nathan has been craving sweet things almost all day. It doesn't surprise him that it's Ryuuzaki's memories, and while there are things he understands--well, there's a lot that he doesn't, and for the most part he doesn't intend to question it. They aren't his memories to poke around in.

He does feel he should at least apologise for getting them, though.


[ He bites down on the desire to ask for Ryuuga. It's not up to him what he calls people. ]
sweetbreads: (Default)

[personal profile] sweetbreads 2013-11-09 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The second half of this is just for you. A young Lecter meets his Jewish tutor, he presents the head of the butcher to Lady Murasaki, in sacrifice before her ancestor, Inspector Popil gives him a lie detector test, and finally the murder of Dortlich. ]
inafadingcrown: (grave and beautiful)

[personal profile] inafadingcrown 2013-11-01 05:16 am (UTC)(link)
For all that is strange about this memory, there are some things that are familiar. The responsibility of lives in her hands, the careful consideration of her next move- and trying to anticipate her opponent's. The rest... It's strange, extremely so. But all the more intriguing for it.

The young man was quite distinctive, something that will be an advantage should this link prove to come with some of the more troublesome side-effects. She begins to scroll through posts on the network, looking for his face.


It's cold, deadly cold. The sort of cold that sinks into your bones and doesn't leave. Ice and snow are everywhere you turn; even the small fire in front of you brings little comfort. You pull your cloak tighter about you and glancing about, noting how much fewer there are of your group now.

A handsome young man with golden hair and kind eyes takes a seat beside you- your eldest brother and the one who understands you best.

"You should rest, Artanis." His voice is soft and filled with concern.

"How can I, Findaráto, when our people perish as we speak?" You look at him pleadingly, some small part of you hoping that he will have all the answers, as he did when you were young. "I sit here and my mind races, thinking of what I might do, or what I might have done, to ease their suffering."

He shakes his head. "That way lies only madness, little sister. Our people will not benefit from this self-torment. We must move forward, Artanis. Our course is set, whether it be wise or foolish, and we will need our strength to follow it. Our people look to you for that, and for hope."

You are silent, wondering how you are to give strength and hope to others when you have so little for yourself.

He speaks again, his voice gentle but firm. "Rest. I will take this watch."

This time you shake your head. "I have seen too many lie down to sleep, never to rise again." You lean against him, shivering, hoping to share what little body heat either of you have. "I will sit with you."

So you say. But the comfort of family and the added warmth are too much to be combated. Despite your best efforts, your eyelids droop and, gradually, you drift off into a fitful sleep.
acapriciousthing: (Default)


[personal profile] acapriciousthing 2013-10-27 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
It's not her place to judge. It's never been her place to judge. So learning of how that mystery killer did his business, well, she was surprised, but more curious than anything. How did he do it?

Did he do it by meddling where he shouldn't? Because that was an exception on the judging front.

Detectives, now, those she was quite familiar with. Especially those faced with a case they could never have seen coming. So she goes looking for whoever's memory this was.

From here

She only had one day, that was just how it worked. And it had been twenty four hours. She knew what was coming, but she wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to go yet.

Not that she had a choice. Not that anyone ever did. She stood on the edge of the fountain, fearing what was coming but accepting it nonetheless. And then a sudden pain in her chest. Sharp, and so much more present than would happen on any other day.

Sharp, and fast. She doesn't feel herself hit the water. Simply awakes somewhere else to the sound of a voice asking "So that was it. How was it?".

She removes the coins from her eyes and sees... herself. The rest of her. Smiling and welcoming her back.
Edited 2013-10-27 05:43 (UTC)
acapriciousthing: (Default)

[personal profile] acapriciousthing 2013-11-07 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
In a lot of ways, the strangest part of the memory is the feeling of being a child. She never had been. Not really. When she had first come into existence, the universe was a very different place. Just her and Destiny.

And then there were two very bright minds going up against each other, a tale as old as time. Batman and the Joker. Superman and Lex Luthor. It was remarkable how often there were two powerful people locked together like that.

But the most important was really the reflection. The reflection gave her an actual picture of who she was looking for.

((And for her part it's Hell being emptied, and her attempts to get the dead back under control... all the while worrying about how much trouble her idiot brother has gotten himself into., memories of intrusive memories and those around her dying with it completely out of her control))