Lazarus Lawliet (
numberedshepherd) wrote in
raisetheearth2015-11-24 10:31 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Keep Burning Like We're Never Gonna Die [Closed]
Who: Lazarus, Micah and Nathan
Where: Christchurch Hospital
When: November 24, Tuesday
What: Lazarus is finally leaving the hospital which means that it's finally a good time for visitors, including one very relevant to him he has yet to meet.
Status: Closed
The old adage is that when one falls off the horse, it's imperative for him to get back on as quickly as possible. Falling hard, however, means that a little bit of extra time might well be forgiven, and Lazarus has certainly taken that. After over three weeks in the hospital recovering from a badly burned leg and the acquisition of some looser pants, it's with reluctance but a sense of duty that he packs his things and waits to be discharged. The world might be a more hostile place, but despite his doubts, there are some people out there who still think that he has a place in it, and he's come too far and given too much of himself not to cling to that. Whether or not he's earned what remains of that faith in his ability and worthiness, it's his job now to earn it. That seems fair.
But there are two last visitors before he leaves. Just as well, to help ease him back into the everyday life he's been observing and partaking in from his phone and the Network while others have been disbanded and displaced. One is Nathan, a familiar at at this point indispensable presence. The other is one he's only spoken to over the Network so far, who has yet to see his face but had a bit part in the life of his Other. He doesn't know what will happen; he can only hope that it won't be yet another catastrophe to throw onto the heap.
He strikes a different figure than he usually does as he sits and waits for Nathan and Micah, his close-fitting black clothes exchanged for something looser-fitting and more comfortable as his leg continues to heal. The outfit happens to be the same long-sleeved white t-shirt and pair of baggy blue jeans he got back from his teleporter echo.
Where: Christchurch Hospital
When: November 24, Tuesday
What: Lazarus is finally leaving the hospital which means that it's finally a good time for visitors, including one very relevant to him he has yet to meet.
Status: Closed
The old adage is that when one falls off the horse, it's imperative for him to get back on as quickly as possible. Falling hard, however, means that a little bit of extra time might well be forgiven, and Lazarus has certainly taken that. After over three weeks in the hospital recovering from a badly burned leg and the acquisition of some looser pants, it's with reluctance but a sense of duty that he packs his things and waits to be discharged. The world might be a more hostile place, but despite his doubts, there are some people out there who still think that he has a place in it, and he's come too far and given too much of himself not to cling to that. Whether or not he's earned what remains of that faith in his ability and worthiness, it's his job now to earn it. That seems fair.
But there are two last visitors before he leaves. Just as well, to help ease him back into the everyday life he's been observing and partaking in from his phone and the Network while others have been disbanded and displaced. One is Nathan, a familiar at at this point indispensable presence. The other is one he's only spoken to over the Network so far, who has yet to see his face but had a bit part in the life of his Other. He doesn't know what will happen; he can only hope that it won't be yet another catastrophe to throw onto the heap.
He strikes a different figure than he usually does as he sits and waits for Nathan and Micah, his close-fitting black clothes exchanged for something looser-fitting and more comfortable as his leg continues to heal. The outfit happens to be the same long-sleeved white t-shirt and pair of baggy blue jeans he got back from his teleporter echo.
no subject
He unwinds his fingers from his hair, finally, but he rolls over the little bedside table with his new (or old, all things considered) puzzle on it. Trading one calming activity for another. He shifts a few pieces around, looking for a hint of drawing or shading, but every single one of them so far seems to be pure white.
"With that, you should of course also expect the possibility of several Echoes." Just a fair warning. Having them come in quick succession can be dizzying, and Micah has only had a few so far and probably isn't yet accustomed to the feeling.
More sorting through the pieces, and still all white. Hm. "To put together what's already been said . . . in that life, our Others competed to take the place of L, who was considered to be the greatest detective in the world. That's why the intensive language programs; a case could turn up anywhere and they needed to be effective communicators.
"All three of our Others grew up and were educated in an orphanage called Wammy's House, located in Winchester, Great Britain."
Nathan leaves it there for the moment, still sorting through puzzle pieces, watching out of the corner of his eye for any telltale sign of an Echo.
no subject
Still, he is working earnestly toward respecting the choices of those he takes under his wing from a former life. Nathan drew the line when he meddled too much, and though it had been initially shocking, he's grown to appreciate that he had stepped forward and stated his preference. If Micah wants to know, he has to trust Micah, foremost, to know what he wants.
"I think that L was the first," he says, trying to continue where Nathan left off. "At least, the first of note. He was very precocious and was something like a savant for solving cases. The effort was to recreate that perfect storm, and I think it broke a lot of children. It didn't leave L whole, either, but... to him, and even them, perhaps it was simply normal. Anyway... this orphanage was competitive and L was supposed to choose a child to take his place before his death, but he never got that chance. A particular investigation claimed his life as well as the life of the orphanage's founder. He went by 'Watari.'"
He pauses, on the same lookout for echoes as Nathan.
no subject
"You know Near and I don't get along," he says, voice taut through clenched teeth. "We're always competing. Always."
Micah doesn't immediately sit up after he's recited this statement from the second memory; he remains slouched forward with his head in his hands for a long moment, breathing hard, willing the wave of nausea brought on by the pair of Echoes to subside.
no subject
He watches Micah awkwardly, but unsure of quite what to do for him, opts to leave him be so that he can collect himself. And when Micah speaks, he shifts uncomfortably. Such painfully familiar words for the second time today.
"... The same one again."
no subject
"I propose that's enough for today," he says quietly. "I hope the reason for this proposal isn't difficult to guess... I would ask both of you to try to keep these revelations in perspective, above all else."
He thinks that Nathan will; it's Micah he's not sure about.
no subject
It doesn't matter to him. These memories - they're from someone else's life. Not his. He's determined not to let them become a larger part of his life than necessary.
"I could probably use an aspirin or two," he says, with half a smile.
no subject
Nathan lets out a breath, and nods. He has had much practice by now of trying to keep things in perspective, and while he usually still has worry in the back of his mind, he likes to think that he's fairly good at that.
"Considering where we are, such a thing shouldn't be a problem."
no subject
"I have some," Lazarus volunteers, picking up his bag of belongings and setting them on the mattress beside him to rifle through. Not that they've done much for him while he's in a burn ward, not that morphine was always enough, but he's in the habit of keeping some for minor aches and pains. Whether or not Micah was joking, Lazarus is also in the habit of taking such things very seriously. He moves a little awkwardly as he leans over his injured leg, but retrieves the bottle fairly quickly and offers it.
no subject
"Thanks," he says, quietly, rubbing at his temple. So many memories, so much new information all at once - it's more than he expected. How does someone know what to expect in a situation like this? It's more or less without precedent, for Micah.
"Well ... this certainly hasn't been boring."