he who strikes first.

[rainingteadropss]

(by のぶお M) on flickr

[justificus-blog]

@einsami

♟ "I've been thinking--" He trails off, taking a strawberry from his pursed lips. "If we were to ever find ourselves in a situation like the Donner Party, I think I would eat you last." More silence, he sets the strawberry back down onto the plate and turns it over with a fork. "---though it would be unwise to tell the others this. Both for practical and professional reasons. You understand."

[justificus-blog]

starter call while I attempt to remember how to code?

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eteritlux:

†— For a moment he laid still with his eyes closed and his posture flaccid. The detective was a notorious night owl and it wasn’t entirely outlandish for him to be caught idling. There were times, even when he had committed to some symbol of sleep, that he swore he felt eyes on him. Even in the throws in a new dream, that soft candy floss delirium one gets between waking and snoozing, he liked to keep L in vigil. Light’s face scrunched at the nose, his hands bunching into knots beneath the sheets.  It was an action not of pain, but of impartial irritation. Subliminally, he wondered how the two of them had ever reached this level of cordiality, this level of familiarity that laid rest to boundary. 

“–Takada? Kiyomi Takada?” He corrected, half-way sorry that such an intimate nickname was being shared out in the open. Rolling onto his back, he was less bothered by the intrusion of his privacy and more so on the interruption of sleep. His eyes fell on the phone with a jaded form of confusion. He wondered why it was he hardly missed it, how he had only just now realized it was gone. “–you remember university, she’s Miss To-oh, pride of the entire school?” He stopped elaborating, moving a hand toward the phone. “–she’s a friend.”

♟ Actually, he did not remember university. Not that well, at least. In his mind, the experience had been nonconsequential. How easily he misjudged the importance of the organized institution, the structure of a formalized education. Having not particularly had the experience in his formative years, he found himself questioning its validity. The more he thought about it, the more he imagined Light would disagree. He imagined Light enjoyed school not for the namesake of academia, but for the show of it. The detective grinned, fiendishly and childish. "---I'm afraid the name doesn't ring a bell. Apologies. Though, the way you talk about her she must be quite the socialite. A worthy friend for Light-kun."

He moved the phone out of his suspect's reach, that grin splitting his cheeks. "I'm afraid you're still under surveillance." He would never say that he craved a reaction, that would be admittedly too juvenile. But it was always worth something to push Light's buttons just a tad, to test the waters of Kira's resilience. A bit of payback, perhaps. He didn't particularly care for being proven wrong. "--I do admit I find it surprising that Ms. Amane would allow you to have a female friend. " 

[justificus-blog]

@mafiabrat

♟ He doesn't know the first thing about fashion. One could tell by the glazed, halfway dozing look in his eyes. There is a reason why he wears the same thing every day, he imagines the mental energy is better spent elsewhere. But he'd never in a million years say that to Mello, he knows they would never let him hear the end of that. He nods, head tilting as he crams another doughnut in his mouth. "---that one is nice." He has said that for the last three outfits, but who is counting? 

[laracroftsspouse-deactivated201]

explain the reason for your url

[justificus-blog]

@eteritlux

♟ In his defense, he had been patient. It would be unfair to assume Raito-kun would adjust to his bizarre sleeping schedule, so there had been a time of night set aside for the momentous occasion of letting his suspect rest. He'd sit there with a laptop doing God knows what until daylight broke and he'd be free to drag his accomplice along for the business of the day. It was six a.m. now, a perfect time for a person to be rested up for questioning. Climbing over the side of the bed that was almost always left vacant, the detective gently pulled a thumb and forefinger's worth of Light's hair.

"---who is Taki?" He whispered, holding the suspect's phone in his opposite hand. It was hardly his business, sure, but in his mind Light had long forfeited any rights to privacy. The text message was interesting, stating some frequent and often fast-paced concern for Light's recent absence at the university. He'd say that was a valid cause for suspicion, maybe a touch of boredom added to that. "---whoever they are, they are quite concerned about your education. Three messages from last night alone."

[justificus-blog]

93312639:

Death for Light had been loud—a sonic boom of emotion previously swept into a tight, dark place now spilling and boiling over, a thunderclap ripping from his breastbone, a throat screamed raw and bloody. He prefers to tiptoe around the memory if he ever happens on it, stepping carefully over the image of his lowly begging, ducking under the cry of terror as he scrambles away to hug a wall. Light never lingers.

It is why he is in this mess in the first place.

Truth be told, he has not expected to actually find L. B should be pleased … when Light exchanges the information for a more permanent body.

Light, never one to accept reality or the idea that someone could not want to speak with him, leans over L’s shoulder and murmurs in his ear. He does not listen too closely to the tremble in his speechnor does he examine the strange leaping sensation from within him, as if the diving board has been stolen out from under him just as he bends his knees, because Light Yagami does not linger.

The only way is forward, he tells himself, as he chases the dead.

“Now,” Light whispers, “who’s this then?”

♟ The sensation of words at his ear with no breath behind them is almost terrifying. It takes all of him not to duck away, to hide somewhere like the pitiful terrified orphan he once was. But he is astute enough to know that that would be unbecoming of someone of his stature, so too would it feed Light’s terrible ego that had appeared to have outlived the two of them. He wants to say something but he finds himself at a loss. It is unnatural to have a casual conversation with one's murderer, almost perverse in some way. The lingering feeling of nausea is accompanied with the knowledge that it was not always this way.

Indeed, there was a time when he would have enjoyed a conversation on the topic of angels and medieval literature, even a time when he too would feel that spark of intrigue and inspiration. It's not there anymore. It is replaced with some sensation of heaviness that sits in his chest and pulls downward. L follows suit, crouching in his usual frog-like composure as he attempts to bury his fingers in the fresh earth of his own grave. Anything not to have to look at Light, to acknowledge his presence. For a moment he focuses on being angry, only to realize he was never trained to behave that way. He was made to be calm, collected and composed. Stupidly he wishes Watari was here.  He murmurs something beneath his breath but it is hardly coherent. It ends with a whispy:  "---away." 

[justificus-blog]

“---if humans and machines coexist in the Thomas the Tank Engine universe is there a statue of laws that prohibit unlawful use of transportation? Let's say, for instance, a human managed to gain control of a sentient tank engine. Would they be charged for something akin to grand theft auto? Or would it be considered kidnapping? ”

[justificus-blog]

@93312639

♟ Dying had been unpleasant. It brought upon not a particular sadness, he was certain he had not the capability for the emotion, but rather an emptiness that had no rhyme or reason. He had been buried in Japan. A shock for him, for he had always imagined he'd reach some ripe age and die inconspicuously in his own desk chair. In London, perhaps. Berlin, maybe. Someplace where the culture was less dignified with death. Some place that reminded him more of his childhood. A reminder that he was once there, had left a mark.

He should have more interest in the happenings of the living, his successors and the like, but the existential dread has him feeling too disinterested to travel. Across his lot, there is a bronze angel that looks horrifically Christian. He wonders if it is Michael, or Gabriel, maybe Lucifer. All the while, he ignores the real devil who appears at his back. He has no words for him. It will go away if he wills it to. 

[justificus-blog]

eteritlux:

†— The look on Light’s face is the same one his mother used to wear when she caught his sister telling lies.  It was an expression of partial anger, the kind that bubbles at the surface like a covered pot but also a knowing suspicion. The kind of suspicion that sits in partial wait like a passenger on a late train, twiddling its thumbs and idly waiting for the perfect time for reveal. How wonderful it would be to study the great detective’s psyche, to comprehend what it was that triggered this impulse to fillet and dissect people as if it were done in the name of science. Even worse, he gets the impression that L see’s him as his personal science project, a perfect oppurtunity to poke and prod him to see valid results. It’s infuriating to say the least. 

“ I see.” He pauses, his own smile and a scant of a laugh chasing his breath. He’s laughing but hardly amused. “ So, in that case, am I supposed to be led to believe that your intentions were genuine? That you weren’t operating on the solid pursuit of Kira? Hoping I might let something slip, perhaps?”  His head tilts, his elbow propped up upon the armrest of his chair and his fist to his chin. “ For someone so intent on sniffing out dishonesty, you’re certainly adept in the practice.” He stares, lips rolling into a fine line as he attempts to appear neutral. 

“Yes, I am actually.” The words come out poignant, sharp and direct. “ That’s the entire point of the investigation, isn’t it? I prove my innocence, my honesty, my trustworthiness. You do recall that you’re trying to pass me over as a murderer, right? I’d say my status as an honest person is something crucial for autonomy sake. But let’s not reinstate the obvious–” Another pause, Light looks elsewhere and settles upon a plain, dead monitor. “ Honestly Ryuzaki, I’d say appearing trustworthy is as crucial for you as it is for me. " 

♟ Internally, he begins to wonder why Light does that. Whenever he's angry or on the verge of getting frustrated, he'll make sure to tell someone that he understands or he sees something. It's trivial, but the detective can't help but notice it, to store it away for future reference.  For now, he returns that poised sense of cordiality, leaning into his raised hand with a touch of impatience. His gut tells him that Light has something to say, but for whatever the reason, he chooses instead to lecture rather than speak. Typical. 

His voice starts in a low drawl. " Well, since honesty is the key point of our discussion, let me start by saying my intentions were hardly amicable. While it's true that my sights were set on Kira, it was obviously crucial to observe your reaction as well as how you chose to adapt.  A slip-up would have been beneficial, yes but it was hardly what I was expecting. " He pauses, taking a breath and leaning a touch forward. "Since we're kicking this nasty lying habit of ours, I'll tell you that I halfway expected you to call me on my bluff or at the very least mention it in private. You never did of course, even after we started investigating the Yotsuba group. Again, following the recent trend of honesty---I'm going to ask you why. " 

For a moment, the detective's stony features tense within the muscle, his face looking as though it were shocked by a live wire. Intuition has him assuming the worst but in the name of curiosity, he presses onward.  For a moment, he can see why Ms. Amane finds Raito-kun so engaging. He seems to encourage pursuit. " By means of profession? Of course. But I'm sensing a wave of elaboration. " 

[justificus-blog]

@invcnio-patcr

♟ There is no finer of a simple pleasure than that of the smell of fresh sheets. He had stayed in so many hotels in his lifetime, one would think that the scent would have lost its charm.  There is a pile of sheets, still warm from their morning press, that have been stripped off the bed and now lie in a heap upon the floor. The detective, as clever as always, has himself wrapped up and hidden. The world, for at least a moment, is as clean and simple as those white bedclothes. He hears the door open and his body freezes. He knows who it is, of course, but he's just childish enough to pretend he's hidden from sight. 

[justasimplelife07]

[destroymylife]

[justificus-blog]

eteritlux:

†— Light’s jawline clenches as his teeth grit over each other. However, his eyes seem to remain soft, his composure the likes of a student looking over the first page of an exam. He laughs softly, stopping his movement in the chair and glancing over at his contemporary with an air of subdued humor. Fine, two can play at this game. Light wonders if the detective has ever spent time away from his workplace. if he has ever had the experience of a conversation that doesn’t revolve around murder mysteries and interrogation tactics. Because these sort of conversations, the kind that always end up as some form of test or trick, are the only sort he bothers to make coherent.  

“ Really, Ryuga? You think Kira would be faking an air of composure for your sake? I think I’ll have to contest that.” His laced fingers stretch downward, the knuckles popping. A horrible habit of his. “–if I were Kira, I’d be making myself appear as normal and functioning as possible. You’ve already said yourself that you believe Kira to be a calculating person, someone who can more or less operate efficiently and without a second guess. If I were Kira I’d want to discredit that point. I’d imagine Kira would jump at the opportunity to play your sympathies, especially with such a raw emotion as sadness. I think Kira would try to play to your human side, make you feel sympathy for him so that you’d see him as a friend rather than an enemy. I have no intention in faking a friendship with you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as much my enemy as Kira’s. You’ve made it clear you still suspect me. " 

Despite the fact that his tone is informative, his words flowing as if they were etched out on an old-fashioned typewriter, his face seems transfixed in a mold of stoicism. His arms cross over the chest, his body leaning back in the swivel chair. ”–and I don’t recall you ever using the word dishonest to describe Kira, you haven’t had the luxury to observe how he interacts with others. You have used words such as devious, calculating and childish but I think you’ve only ever called me dishonest.“

♟The detective's lips curve around the end of his thumb. A part of him is impressed by Light's deductive skills but also delighted by the idea that the concept of suspicion was still registered in his conscious. It is a relief to hear it in some strange way, a small yet fragile reminder that his case still has a standing chance. Nevertheless, he knows better than to laugh or play dirty. Certainly, he was above such childish impulses, but the need to poke the rising flames was a hard one to swallow. He'd be lying if he said the idea of getting Light angry or backed into a corner didn't enthrall him. It was like peeling back the skin of a ripe fruit, earning that sweet taste of victory one cut at a time. 

"--ah, I thought you'd catch that." He grinned, his cheek coming to rest on his crossed arms. " While I haven't outwardly described Kira as a dishonest person, I never ruled it out as a possible character trait. Surely it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilty that Kira is a liar. I mean, look at what he's done with the second Kira, trying to lead us off his trail with a false video message. Yes, I believe Kira could be as talented a liar as say---you or I."

He lets the air permeate in silence for a moment, his naked brow pinching a bit at the start of his nose. "---that's interesting you say that, Light." He began, his smile almost decimated. " I do believe you were putting on an act at the college. Tennis matches, afternoons at the cafe. Surely that was your attempt at staging some form of a relationship with L, something to clear you of suspicion." He's not sure why, but he wishes Light wouldn't have said that last bit.  It was all good and fun until someone had to get vindictive. "---you're very concerned with appearing trustworthy, aren't you? An honest person."

[justificus-blog]

@stonedeafdog  ; ; 

♟The detective stares. He hardly means to be rude, it’s just a childhood quirk that’s never been given the chance to wear off.  It is rare for him to have guests, even rarer that they would find themselves in his personal hotel room but the Kira investigation calls for an entirely different approach to his work. It was wise to know the men who would be working with him, to establish some semblance of trust. That had not been going very well lately. 

“--here.” In his hand is a stick of strawberry pocky, he hands it over right when his colleague goes to bring a cigarette to his lips. There's no smoking allowed in here, but that's hardly a good way to introduce one's self. "---a much healthier alternative." 

[justificus-blog]

eteritlux:

†— When he finally glances away from the computer screen his eyes travel in a slow, almost deliberate trance. It’s humorous to think Ryuzaki has any sort of grasp on something as impartial as emotion. It is a subject that is too intimate, in his opinion, something that can not be referenced back to video feeds or data pulls. He imagines the great detective lives in a world dominated by numbers, a world in which reason is ever so poignant and keen and efficient. Light hardly finds it to be a faulted way to live, quite the contrary, he’s the same way. He’s just not entirely fond of the idea that on top of everything else, his mental stability is being called into question. 

“ I understand. ” How many times has that been his go-to response to this man? He understands but he does not accept, chews but does not swallow.  He seems lax enough in demeanor, coming back down from his stretch to turn his swivel chair to face Ryuga, all until he hears that word. Honest. Never in his life did he have to prove himself as an honest person before Hideki Ryuga came along. In most instances, he had the benefit of the doubt, a crowning achievement that came naturally. People trusted Light Yagami, whether it was his reputation or something about his appearance, he was someone liked, someone worthy of trust. Why Ryuzaki felt differently was perplexing, to say the least, disturbing at the most.

“ Really, Ryuzaki I don’t have a reason to lie.” He smiles that fake smile of his, fingers lacing atop his lap as he idly spins the chair with the tip of his toes. Internally, however, he is fuming. The idea that he would so easily allow himself to become emotionally compromised, that he would throw the entire case under the bus like an ill-tempered child. It is insulting. He doesn’t take the snacks, choosing instead to retain eye contact. “–Besides, I have a lot at stake here. I can’t afford to let something as trivial as emotions get in the way of proving my and Misa’s innocence, can I?” His smile dropped, his tone a touch grave. “Trust me, detective. I have no problem keeping up my thirty percent.” 

♟ The detective stares. He wonders if Light realizes how completely impartial he sounds. To L's trained ears, the answer sounds as if it has been rehearsed but he could easily see how a lesser mind would fall victim to that trap. Light has the kind of look to him that screams honor student, his voice and his movements refined in a way only hard discipline can procure. He doesn't smile back, choosing instead to saunter ever closer so that the two of them sit beside each other in those matching office chairs. The bag of Graham cracker Pandas gets smooshed between his raised legs, a thumb hooking into his bottom lip. 

" I wouldn't doubt it." His voice is more of a whisper than a statement. " You tend to keep your emotions separate from your work ethic, a good tactic for this line of work." There is another pause, this time it is far more deliberate and less punctual. He knows Light is partial to flattery, even if he never lets it show in his expression or demeanor. In a way, he is reminded of a younger version of himself. A time long ago when he was less inclined to toil his time by himself, when he gave a damn about the input of a second party. He would like to ask Light why he cared so much about what others thought but he'd save that for another interrogation.

"---though it's interesting you place so much importance on a lack of emotion." He's like a dog with a new bone. " You see, I meant no offense in telling you I thought you looked sad, but you seemed to take it as such. I'd like to ask why it is you're so adamant on keeping a stony face but I suppose you're under the impression that keeping your composure would mean I would have fewer means of suspicion."  Ah, let's test him now. "--I must tell you that it's quite the opposite. I could see Kira acting complacent and emotionless in an act to put forward his cooperation. Dishonesty seems to be one of his favorite tools of the trade."