Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 3:02:36 GMT -5
There was a dark part of Orpheus that was rarely triggered by anyone at all. There was a part of Orpheus that had never truly seen the light of day, a part of Orpheus that was just as capable of cruelty as any other human being. He was, after all, human. He had the ability to be cruel. He had the ability to threaten and be violent. It was less obvious in him than it was in others, but it was still there, waiting for the right circumstances to pull it into the light. Orpheus bristled at the sound of L’s full name said with such scorn. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. L was a good detective, and better than that, he was a good man. His secret deserved to be protected, not hurt and flaunted like this. Orpheus screwed his eyes shut, then let L down gently before pushing himself to his feet. He swayed a little as he tried to turn to face Damon, but he didn’t back down. “If you so much as touch him,” Orpheus managed, eyes narrowing, “I will kill you.” It wasn’t an empty threat, despite Orpheus having never killed in his life. If any harm came to L, it would be on him, and he couldn’t live with that. He would sooner lose his soul than allow L to lose his life. Before Orpheus had even decided to take action, he found his leg sweeping out, aiming right towards Damon’s kneecaps. If he could bring him to the ground, maybe he could get his knife off him. Maybe he could make him back off. He wasn’t thinking clearly anymore – he was just acting.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 3:14:50 GMT -5
Damon watched, his eyes narrowed as Orpheus moved. He was content to let him do what he wanted to do next. It was far more entertaining when they fought back a little, after all. He straightened up, giving Orpheus room to stand. His eyebrows raised a little, and his smirk grew wider as Orpheus managed to make it to his feet. “Will you, now?” He replied softly, stepping forwards. “Do you really think you can? You've never killed anyone. Why would you be able to do it now? The truth, Orpheus, is that you’re weak. You’re pathetic. You talk a big game, hope and love, but you can’t even protect Lawliet here. You lost him. He wouldn’t be hurting right now, if it wasn’t for you. You think he’d still do rooms if you didn’t want to? You think he’d have ever let himself be hurt if he hadn’t been distracted worrying about you? Of course not. The cold, hard truth is that - “ He gasped as the kick connected, his knees buckling and the knife flying out to the side. Shock kept him down for a long moment, before he looked up, murder in his eyes, “That…was very, very stupid.” He stood up, then walked towards Orpheus, his hands clenched. “Are you…really…naive enough to believe I need a weapon to kill you?” He didn’t look. He didn’t notice. But a pale hand moved, long, slender fingers closing around the discarded hilt.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 3:22:25 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t have the time or patience to listen to Damon’s speech. It would come back to him later, of course, when it really was his fault that L was hurting, but for now it didn’t matter much to him. It wasn’t his fault that L was in this situation, no matter what words Damon tossed in his face. And he was serious about his threat. If Damon laid a single hand on L, Orpheus would not rest until he was dead, even if he had to die too. He would do anything for L, including kill. He hoped he didn’t have to prove it, but he would if it came down to it. He would strip the life from Damon bit by bit until nothing remained besides a long-dead corpse. “You doubt me,” he said, trying to sound stronger than he felt. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and he could feel his legs shaking from the effort of keeping himself up. He just needed to stand until he managed to kill Damon. Or… no, he didn’t even need to do that. He just needed to give L enough of a window that he could escape. “I will bring you to your knees as many times as it takes for you to leave him alone. I will hurt you, and I won’t feel any remorse, because you gave away your right to that the moment you decided to hurt L.” He pushed himself forward, white flashing across his vision as he realized he was standing on his own, completely unsupported. His legs were going to give out any minute. His body might give out, too, if he wasn’t careful. “I’d like to see you try,” Orpheus said, taking a deep breath in as he staggered forward another step. Let Damon hit him. Let Damon do his absolute worst. It didn’t matter to Orpheus, because it would give L enough time to get out of there. It would take time for Damon to kill him. He would be distracted. It would be the perfect escape opportunity. Run, he tapped on the back of L’s hand, hoping that would be enough to get him going. Run.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 3:38:36 GMT -5
Damon’s eyes flashed, his smirk still frozen on his face, though he wasn’t feeling very humorous anymore, Orpheus had made him angry. He was ready to end this, right now. He laughed, the sound harsh and full of venom. “I doubt you,” he confirmed quietly. “You can’t kill. You aren’t capable of it. Please. I could do anything I wanted, and you couldn’t do a thing to me. You’re not good enough to stop me.” He didn’t need a knife. He had his hands, his teeth, if necessary. He could kill with anything at all. L closed his eyes, the sounds hurting his ears. He couldn’t tell what was happening, only that he couldn’t seem to think. He didn’t know what he was doing. Something touched his hand. His eyes opened, vague and unfocused, but open. The touches had meaning. His brain took a couple seconds to process it, but he understood. Run. Run. From what? He lurched to the side, trying to stand. He managed to push himself to his knees, before something painful tugged him back down. “You mean touch him…like this?” Damon’s hand shot forwards, snatching a handful of L’s hair and yanking him to the side. “Are you going to kill me now? Ooooooooorpheus? Are you angry yet?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 3:45:38 GMT -5
Orpheus knew he needed to finish this quickly. His mind was whirring, his thoughts grinding to a halt as the blood loss began to sink in. He didn’t know how much longer he had. L might have been able to tell him if he were any shape to calculate it, but he wasn’t. Orpheus was just trying to make it possible for L to get away, but it didn’t seem like Damon was interested in letting that happen. Orpheus didn’t mind dying if it meant L’s safety, but he wouldn’t take it on the word of a killer. He would have to make sure that Damon couldn’t follow L if it came down to it. He would fight to the death. There wasn’t any other option here. “Λ!” Orpheus cried, eyes wide as Damon took hold of his hair. Anger built in Orpheus’ chest. Anger he had little room for unless he got it out of his system quickly. He needed to take Damon down before he passed out. Before he wasn’t able to keep standing. That moment was coming sooner than he was comfortable with. Already the room was spinning. Already he was beginning to feel cold with blood loss. “Yes,” Orpheus growled, turning his hazel eyes fully on Damon. “I’m going to kill you.” He surged forward, his movements unwieldy and clumsy. It didn’t matter. His punch still had power behind it as he aimed it at Damon’s wrist, doing his best to make him drop L. All he could think of was buying time for L to get away. He had forced himself to accept that he would die here. That was fine. It was fine as long as L didn’t have to.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 3:59:52 GMT -5
L could tell he was on the floor, which was vaguely interesting. He didn’t know what had happened to get him there, but he could hear Orpheus’ voice, and it was beginning to slowly make it through his head that it sounded wrong. He didn’t know how, exactly. He just knew that something wasn’t right.
Damon laughed, an almost insane light to his eyes, as though this was what he’d wanted all along. “Very good.” The punch landed and he snatched his hand back, hissing. Then he moved forwards, his attention purely fixed on Orpheus now. “Do it, then. Coward,” he added softly. “Do it.”
Something was definitely wrong. L’s fingers around the hilt. He sat up, slowly, the world spinning around him, and swayed. His eyed caught on the blood, and he stared at it. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be that red. He grit his teeth. Orpheus was hurt. He was bleeding. L could only focus on that. He moved before he could make a decision, and the knife plunged forwards a third time, this time at Damon’s shoulder. Only…L was still dizzy. He missed the shoulder. And hit Damon’s heart. Damon fell forwards, and L fell after him, toppling on top of him, knife still clutched in his shaking fingers.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 4:09:09 GMT -5
Orpheus was shaking, though he didn’t know when he had started. He just knew he was tired, and it was becoming much more difficult to stay on his feet. He swayed, trying to keep himself upright, trying to balance himself out so he could attack Damon. If Damon was left unchecked, L might die. Orpheus wasn’t thinking of himself at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about whether he might die from the blood loss, just about what it might mean for L if he died before he could take Damon down. His vision was swimming, he realized with a sort of distant fascination. That… that wasn’t good. Focus, he reminded himself, vision locking on Damon. He needed to beat him. He needed… It happened as though in slow motion. L, launching forward. A knife plunging with him. Blood. Damon and L falling, falling too fast… Orpheus reached out, grabbing towards L’s shoulder as though he might be able to support him when he could barely support himself. He missed by a few inches, overbalancing himself and sending his own body on a slow descent towards the ground. L was going to die if he didn’t get up. He needed… he needed to… his head was swimming. It was hard to focus on anything other than the vague impression that L was in danger. That he had to do… to do something… why couldn’t he think? Why did his back feel like it was on fire? That, and his shoulder. He looked down, noting the blood with vague detachment. Ah. He hadn’t noticed that before.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 4:17:40 GMT -5
L didn’t know what was happening, only that he felt terrible, and he needed to get up. His hand was still clutching the knife, and the floor felt warm and damp, or…maybe that was the person he was laying on top of. He shook his head and pushed himself up. His hands were still tied, he realized, but that didn’t matter to him. Where was Orpheus? He looked around the room. It took him a long moment, but his eyes eventually caught on him, and he paused. Then, still swaying gently, he managed to half crawl, half drag his way over to him. There was so much blood. He couldn’t comprehend that amount of blood. He didn’t know where it could have come from…he didn’t understand it. Slowly, he reached forward, placing his tied hands on the wound he could see. He didn’t know how that was going to help. But he wanted to do something. He had to do something.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 4:22:07 GMT -5
Orpheus stared at the ceiling, though he wasn’t entirely certain how he had gotten on the ground. That was alright. The ground was comfortable. He was okay with the ground… it was lonely on the ground, though. And L was in danger. L was in danger, in danger, in danger, he needed to get to him before… he blinked, then blinked again, trying to clear his vision. “Λ?” Orpheus rasped in disbelief, trying to wrap his head around the fact that L was there, not dying. Unless he was hallucinating it. That seemed… possible. He could feel his mind wasn’t quite all there, though he didn’t quite remember why. L looked… concerned. Orpheus glanced around, trying to figure out what L was so worried about. Was it the reason L was in danger? That was still out there… “Ow!” Orpheus gasped sharply, his gaze flicking immediately towards the wound. It was as though putting pressure on it had driven Orpheus’ consciousness towards it. It hurt, then, when he realized what had happened. It hurt as it should have hurt when the knife first went in.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 4:54:59 GMT -5
L couldn’t tell how to fix this. His head was spinning. He wanted to help, but he felt like he’d gotten a concussion at some point without realizing it. He shook his head quickly as Orpheus spoke, his eyes catching on the blood. He didn’t know very much, but he knew that was very, very bad. He flinched away from the exclamation, hands flying up to cover his ears, only they couldn’t. He hesitated, then carefully lowered them again, trying to put pressure on the wound. “Shhh,” he breathed. He couldn’t seem to make words happen, but he could do that much. Maybe it would be enough to calm Orpheus. “Shhhhh.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 5:00:34 GMT -5
“Shhh,” Orpheus repeated, still dazed. He took a deep breath, doing his best to mitigate the effects of the blood loss. Doing his best to understand what L meant. It was okay. He was okay, and there was a body on the floor… oh. Oh, there was a body on the floor. Orpheus blinked, reaching out a hand towards L’s face so he could get a better look at him and make sure he was okay. He wasn’t acting like he was injured, like his body and mind hadn’t caught up with the fact that he had a major injury. Like it was easier to pretend he was perfectly fine than it was to admit that there was an issue. “Λ,” Orpheus whispered again, relishing the taste of the word in his mouth. “I love you. I was… I was afraid.” He couldn’t remember why he’d been afraid. He was… he was very cold. He’d been bleeding… he angled his chin down, gaze catching on L’s hands. Oh. He was still bleeding. That, or L’s hands were bleeding. Orpheus reached up with one hand, gently intertwining his fingers with L In spite of the blood. He was okay. He had to believe that he would be okay, because somehow they had survived this. “You… okay?” he asked, shifting his soft grip on L’s jaw to gently tap on the detective’s temple. “You look… bad.” It may not have been the most tactful he’d ever been, but his mind wasn’t wanting to provide the right words.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 11:18:32 GMT -5
L blinked at the soft feeling of a hand on his face, his eyes searching for the source of it. He didn’t move back. He was far too out of it to be frightened at the moment. Anyone could have come and killed him then, and he wouldn’t have been able to lift a finger in his own defense. He finally found Orpheus’ face, his dark eyes skating across it. He looked…pale. Why was he pale? He looked at the blood again, and his forehead creased. Bad. That was bad. He didn’t like it. It made his stomach feel twisty. He blinked slowly, his attention shifting back to Orpheus’ face. It took him a minute to process that he had said something, and another minute to figure out what it was. “Bad,” he repeated vaguely. He felt bad, so that made sense. “Blood,” added, and tried to touch it again, only to find his hand being held. “Sorry…” he added in a small voice. Something told him he needed to say that, too, though he didn’t know why. He hesitated, swaying a little. He needed to stop the bleeding, somehow. He needed to make this okay again. With that in mind, he tried t9 push himself to his feet.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 11:23:54 GMT -5
Orpheus blinked, tilting his head a little bit as L apologized. He didn’t see any reason for L to apologize, it was Orpheus’ fault he was in danger. Orpheus’ fault, because he hadn’t protected him well enough. He took a deep breath, searching L’s eyes as he tried to reconcile the pounding and fading in his own head with the fact that L looked more out of it than Orpheus had ever seen him. They needed to get out of this room, but Orpheus wasn’t sure there was a door. He also wasn’t sure either he or L could walk. That was… odd. He had seen L stumble, and he himself didn’t think he would be strong enough to lift himself to his feet. “No,” he whispered, gently grabbing L and trying to pull him back down. “You need… rest. Rest will make you feel better.” At least… he hoped it would. Orpheus’ eyes raked over L, looking to see if he was suffering from blood loss, too, but it was hard to distinguish whether the blood staining them both was his own or L’s. He hoped it was his. That would mean that L wasn’t bleeding out, and rest would probably help. “Unless... unless you hit your head. Then you shouldn’t… you shouldn’t sleep or anything. That would be bad. You would be… lost. I don’t want you to be lost. I don’t…” he trailed off, brow creasing as the words escaped him. “Ow,” he whispered, the pain of it flooding him all at once. It was a vast understatement, but it was all he felt capable of.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 11:33:46 GMT -5
L shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs, only they seemed to be too thick. He couldn’t shake them off. He wanted to think again, he wanted to be able to do something to help, but he couldn’t seem to make his brain, or even the rest of him, cooperate. He blinked as Orpheus pulled him back down, but he didn’t resist it. He probably couldn’t have, even if he’d wanted to. He felt weak and shaky, unsure of himself. He knew Orpheus was bleeding. He knew that was bad. He knew he had to fix it. He just didn’t know how. “Don’t remember…” he murmured, frowning as he tried to think. “Why’re we spinning…?” He tried to look at Orpheus again, but instead he caught sight of the body, knife still embedded in its back. He stared at it, then reached for the knife. He had no plan. He was just going off impulse. “Blood…” he added, a little more insistently this time. He had gotten the knife. Now he just had to figure out how to tug it out of the body. One step at a time…he pulled weakly, but it remained stuck fast.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 11:42:19 GMT -5
“Knives create more blood,” Orpheus said after a moment, watching as L tried to tug the knife free from the body. He didn’t see how a knife was going to help, but his mind hadn’t fully processed that he was the one bleeding, and that he was going to pass out soon, probably. It was possible that he had misunderstood the issue. He thought he was losing blood, which wasn’t good, so creating more blood would just create an issue. But was it possible that he had too much blood… somehow? He tilted his head, trying to struggle into a seated position. He scooted a little bit closer to L, lending what remained of his strength to free the knife from the body. “Damon,” he said, glancing down at the body. “He knew your name. He said I told him, but I…” Orpheus tilted his head, turning his hazel gaze fully on L. “I didn’t betray you. I wouldn’t. Promise. I didn’t say your name, he just… he knew it.” He was still half terrified that something was going to happen to L, but he couldn’t see what at this point. Damon was dead. Damon was dead, and there hadn’t been anyone else there, so it had to be okay, right? His head hurt. He pressed a palm to his temple, doing his best to get the throbbing to stop.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 11:49:04 GMT -5
L didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He didn’t know what was happening, he barely even realized this was a room. He didn’t know why he felt so strange, but he was in no shape to question it at the moment, so he didn’t try. Once the knife was free, he held it carefully between his tied hands, staring at it as though it might be able to fix this. He didn’t know what to do with it. His thoughts weren’t connecting the way they should. “My name…is…” he murmured, looking up, eyes wide. Something twisted in his chest at the sight of Orpheus, gaze, but he didn’t know how to make it right. He wanted to find the right words, but speaking was a challenge. He blinked at the body again, and something clicked. “Killed him…” he muttered, and dropped the knife. “Killed him…Damon…killed him…I did it. I did it.” It was hard to tell whether he was glad or horrified by it.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 11:53:19 GMT -5
Orpheus breathed out, gaze landing on Damon’s body once more. He didn’t like the fact that he was dead, but he did like the fact that he couldn’t hurt either of them anymore. He forced himself to keep breathing, forced his thoughts to stay in order even as they threatened to drift into oblivion. He had to be the one who was on top of things here, because there was something wrong with L. Had he been hurt? Poisoned? Orpheus didn’t have the expertise to know, and he doubted L had the ability to answer at the moment. “He would’ve… killed you,” Orpheus managed, somehow missing the fact that Damon had mostly been aiming at him. It would have been very easy for Damon to kill L if he had wanted, but it was Orpheus he had targeted. “I’m sorry,” he added, cheeks flushing. He hadn’t wanted to force L into bloodshed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it should have been him. He was the one who had threatened, so he should have been the one to plunge the knife into Damon’s chest. Instead, it was L. “Shh,” Orpheus whispered, pushing himself into position to take L’s hand. “It’s okay. Safe. Safe… promise.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 12:05:14 GMT -5
L didn’t like the memory of killing. He didn’t like the feeling of blood on his hands, though that may have been Orpheus’. He couldn’t tell. He stared at the body, eyes wide, trying to comprehend it. He was trembling, he noted vaguely. Trembling enough to make it hard to sit up. He swayed lightly as he tried to keep his balance, dragging his gaze up to look at Orpheus again, his face even paler than usual. He looked at their hands, blinking at the feeling of one being held. He wanted to explain that he couldn’t seem to make his brain work, but the words refused to come. “No, no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, no. Your…blood. There…need to help you…how…?” He looked up, meeting Orpheus’ eyes with his own unfocused ones. He couldn’t concentrate. This was bad. How had he gotten here? He didn’t remember anymore. And Orpheus was still bleeding. He didn’t think he liked blood very much at all. “Okay?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 23, 2021 23:30:00 GMT -5
Orpheus felt almost as though, if he ignored the blood, he wouldn’t pass out from it. He knew it was faulty logic, but he didn’t think he could be blamed for it. He just… wanted it to be okay. He wanted to make sure they were both okay and got out of the room alright… he frowned, looking at the entrance to the building. “We should… try to leave,” Orpheus managed, doing his best to push himself to his feet. His legs gave out on him almost immediately. They were stuck here for the time being, it seemed. Which meant… they needed to stop the bleeding. Orpheus was feeling more and more weak as time went on. He couldn’t think clearly, and he had a feeling that L was struggling to think as well. This wasn’t… this wasn’t good. “It’s okay,” Orpheus said, and it wasn’t quite a lie. He was doing his best to believe that it was true. He couldn’t remember how to stop the bleeding. He didn’t know if there was a way to. He shifted, forcing himself to look at the wound. “Stitches,” he said after a moment, like that was a feasible request with them both in the state they were. “Or… or… tourniquet,” he added, pronouncing the word very carefully. There was no equivalent in Greek, so he did the best with the limited Japanese had had been taught. He needed to get better at that. He needed to learn more. He needed to stop bleeding so he could survive to learn more.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 23, 2021 23:50:02 GMT -5
L didn’t know how to begin to make this alright again. He couldn’t seem to stop the blood from getting everywhere. He couldn’t seem to make Orpheus better. The world kept fading in and out of focus, and Orpheus with it, which was the more disturbing of the two. He didn’t want to lose sight of Orpheus. He had a terrible feeling that something awful would happen if he looked away from Orpheus for even a moment’s time. “Stitches…” he repeated slowly. His tongue wrapped around the word, trying to make sense of it. He couldn’t think what Orpheus wanted him to sew…it seemed an odd request for where they were right now. Sewing…buttons? Didn’t people sew buttons? Did Orpheus want a button? L swayed as he thought, doing his best to keep his balance as he tried once again to stand. This time, he made it to his feet, standing upright for a long moment, swaying dangerously back for forth ad he tried to make sense of Orpheus’ request. The idea far he wanted L to sew him something…it was so absurd an idea that L felt himself shaking. Or…no…there was a word for that. He was… Was hw laughing? The giggles shook him, disrupting what poor balance he had left. He overbalanced to one side and collapsed again, this time going all the way down to lay awkwardly splayed on the carpet, the giggling still escaping him in odd bursts every time he tried to imagine sewing various things at a time like this.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 24, 2021 0:10:55 GMT -5
Orpheus started, eyes widening as the sound of… was that laughter?… burbled from L. His memory may have been more or less shot, but he was fairly certain he could count on his fingers the number of times he had succeeded in making L laugh. He could probably count it on one hand. Still, it was a pleasant sound, and for a moment Orpheus actually forgot that he was technically dying. He let his eyes drift over to L, a soft smile touching his face as he watched L laugh. He was still bewildered by what had brought on the giggles, but he was pleased that L was happy… even if there really wasn’t that much to be happy about. He pressed down on the stab wound, wondering if someone could apply pressure to their own wounds. Would that work, or was it something you had to get others to do for you? Orpheus could feel himself sinking, could feel his eyes threaten to close… it would be so easy to let them. It would be so easy to just drift away, as long as he could come back to see L… There was no guarantee of that. This was the House. It had brought L back a few times, but it still wasn’t a risk that Orpheus was willing to take. He had to stay alive for L. “Are you… okay?” Orpheus managed, reaching out a hand to catch L’s. “Blood. Pain…” he tapped lightly on the side of L’s head. “You’re not… straight. Think. Straight thinking.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 24, 2021 0:23:26 GMT -5
L didn’t know how to stop laughing once he’d started. It felt completely, totally wrong, the complete opposite the reaction he was supposed to be having, and he couldn’t stop it. It escaped him in short, uncontrolled bursts, and the more he tried to think about it, the more it overtook him. They were laying in an old, dusty house, his hands were tied, Orpheus was dying, and he wanted L to sew something for him. It was so absurd…the entire concept of the House was amusing too, if he tried to think about it for too long. No one had any idea what it was. No one had a clue whether it was even alive, and of course, they all spoke to it, like it eas listening, like it could hear them and respond to them. Maybe they were all insane. Maybe this was what insane person thought. Some of them, anyway. The floor was comfortable. He couldn’t seem to move anyway. Hie hadn’t fallen at a very good angle, but he couldn’t seem to correct himself. He looked down as something caught his hand, then flopped his head to the side to look at Orpheus again, the tapping on the side of his head soothing him. “Definitely not straight…” he muttered, a loopy smile crossing his lips as another burst of giggles escaped him. “You probably…already figured that, though…House? It’s a-me. L Lawliet, also known as Eraldo Coil, and…the other one…anyway…House? Don’t kill him…please.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 24, 2021 0:32:48 GMT -5
“Not… straight?” Orpheus repeated, head tilting to the side as he considered that. He could tell now that it was in the open that it wasn’t a proper sentence, though L was saying it like it was one. He had meant to tell L that he was worried about how his brain was working, but L didn’t seem to have taken it that way. So what did that mean…? What… oh. “Straight. Straight and straight,” Orpheus mumbled, tasting the words before he lifted his gaze to look at L. “Those two are… what is the word? Homophobes… homophones… homophones! Straight and straight are homophones. That is… not true. For me.” He was rambling, he knew, his brain catching on the one thing that seemed to make sense. He couldn’t fit the fact that he was dying into his oxygen starved brain. He couldn’t reconcile an L who broke down laughing about… well, Orpheus didn’t even know what he was laughing about, just that he hadn’t stopped. “House?” Orpheus asked softly, trying to be much quieter than L so he wouldn’t be overheard, “Please make him think right. I’m… I’m scared hearing him speak this way. He… he needs to be able to think like usual. Please.” He wasn’t sure if he had spoken the words out loud or had just thought them, but they seemed to consume him as he tried to stand up and managed instead just to flop forward, cheek hitting the rough carpet of the floor. “I love you,” Orpheus whispered, his eyes flickering closed for just a moment. He was afraid, and this was the only thing he knew how to do in order to be brave quickly. He needed L to know, whatever happened.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 24, 2021 0:47:41 GMT -5
“Straight and straight and straight and straight and straight…” L muttered, letting the words escape him before he could tell whether they made any sort of sense at all. He couldn’t tell what was happening. He couldn’t seem to get up, and it didn’t matter, because there was Orpheus at his side, and why would he want to get up if he was already home? This was alright. His wrists hurt, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t think well enough to care about that. It was funny, too, in a way…it was kind of funny that he was stuck on the ground. He didn’t want Orpheus to die, though. He couldn’t tell if that was happening. He knew the blood was bad. But then he remembered Orpheus saying ‘stitches’ in his serious tone and another wave of laughter rolled over him, chasing away any possibility of him making sense. “I’m not loveable…” he replied, managing to get himself under control enough to speak again at last. “Rude, rude, very rude. Rude L. You’re nice, though…you’re not rude. I just copy copy copy you when I need to be nicer.” He closed his eyes, exhaustion flooding him. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open anymore…he couldn’t think. Even the laughter died away, leaving him very still and quiet on the floor. It took a few minutes for him to open his eyes again. When he began to squint them open, his first thought was the blood. Orpheus. “Orpheus?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 24, 2021 20:02:33 GMT -5
Orpheus looked up at L, tilting his head just a little bit as he regarded him. He was worried, but worry sunk into nothingness as his perception of reality faded. He was worried he was going to pass out soon… he tried to hold onto L, tried to hold onto coherent thought, but he was struggling. He breathed out, glancing down at his hand… there was blood there. Since when was he bleeding? It seemed like something he knew and something that was news all at the same time. He shook his head, trying to figure out what tod o about the situation. “No,” he protested, brain catching on L’s words. “You’re… I love you. You can’t… how are you unlovable if I love you? Unless I don’t exist… do I exist?” Orpheus studied his hand intently, trying to figure out whether or not he existed. It looked solid, but it also looked bloody. He felt… cold. He nestled closer to L, trying to soak in some of his heat. He didn’t seem to realize or care that he was spreading blood everywhere. This was an emergency. This was an emergency and they weren’t treating it like an emergency… Orpheus curled protectively against L as the detective closed his eyes, though he knew he would be next to useless if someone else came after them. He tried to keep breathing, though his breaths were coming in short and shallow. He couldn’t make himself breathe deeper. It took a few moments, but the pain in Orpheus’ chest eased, the wound beginning to knit itself back together. “Yes?” he asked breathlessly, face pale as he reached for L’s hand. “Are… you okay?” Orpheus himself didn’t feel back to normal yet, but he was starting to at least be able to think… which made it even more obvious that something had been very, very wrong with L.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 24, 2021 20:24:01 GMT -5
L’s mind seemed to be slowly but surely slipping back to how it was supposed to be. He looked at Orpheus, his gaze still odd and unfocused, and gave a somewhat insane grin as Orpheus tried to work it out. “You do exist,” he assured him confidently. “Logical speak you can’t be here if you aren’t here…I would know. I’m the Logic Man. I’m never wrong.” He closed his eyes, letting Orpheus curl against him. The urge to laugh was fading, replaced with a seriousness he wasn’t sure he was really ready for. He was becoming a little more self aware, and that was a lot more terrifying than he’d expected it to be. He let Orpheus take his hand. His mind slowed, skipped a beat, and seemed to restart. Any urge to laugh was long gone as he opened his eyes again and searched for Orpheus’ catching his gaze with his own wide, terrified one. “You’re hurt…” he managed, turning to face Orpheus properly. “You’re hurt…you’re bleeding. What…what happened?” His head felt like it was on fire, but he didn’t mention that. Orpheus was hurt and what was he doing? Sitting there? Thinking about what, buttons? “Let me out pressure on it…” he murmured, reaching to try and press down on the wound. “You’ll bleed out…please lay down.” The last several minutes escaped him. All he knew was that they were here now, and there was way, way too much blood for his comfort.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 25, 2021 0:00:45 GMT -5
It seemed that, even with the wound closing, the House wasn’t going to fix Orpheus’ symptoms of blood loss. He glanced over at L, eyes wide at the sudden serious tone. He hadn’t been ready for anything serious… he blinked, trying to be aware of both the blood staining the ground and L’s suddenly frightened voice. He had been laughing earlier, which had meant that… it had meant that everything was alright. Everything had to have been alright, because L never laughed, and he had. Orpheus had heard him, even if he hadn’t understood what was funny! “What happened,” Orpheus echoed, tilting his head as he tried to remember all of the details. It was all a little bit fuzzy, but he remembered Damon and his threats very, very clearly. “He… he said he could track you. So I followed him, but… but he knew your name. And he was my only way here, and he hurt you… and he stabbed me cause I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He rubbed at his temple, conveniently leaving out the part where L had plunged the knife into Damon’s chest. He had a feeling L wouldn’t like that very much, and he didn’t want to get them trapped here because L was trying to process it on the spot. He would tell him as soon as they were back in the living room… if he remembered… “I think… I think the House is helping,” Orpheus mumbled, curling a little bit closer to the heat of L’s body. “Feels… hot now. Not numb. Bad feeling.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 25, 2021 0:36:11 GMT -5
L could feel the effects of whatever had happened to him fading. It wasn’t an altogether comfortable feeling, either. His head hurt. He felt like he’d just speed run his recovery, not reversed it. He was beginning to be able to think again, yes, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. It had been so much easier to think everything was funny and nothing mattered. But it wasn’t true. Orpheus was bleeding…or he had been, was he anymore? There was too much blood, too much for one person to lose, and L wasn’t hurt as far as he knew. Maybe he was. His hands were stained red, and so was his shirt…was he bleeding too? It didn’t matter. Orpheus was still alive, so there was hope. He looked around, catching sight of the knife again. He managed to pick it up and leverage it between his knees, holding it there while he rubbed the rope along it, back and forth until it finally snapped free. His wrists hurt, but that didn’t matter. He needed his hands free for this. He leaned forward and touched the tear in Orpheus’ shirt, pushing the edges back to see the wound. Only..it wasn’t there. He could see the place the knife has torn the shirt, but under that was only bloodstained skin. “I think you’ll be alright, now,” he murmured, looking up at him. “How do you feel?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 25, 2021 0:45:27 GMT -5
Orpheus had been witness to blood loss before, but he had never experienced it for himself. He decided that it wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience again. It wasn’t that it was painful, it was just that it made it hard to think, and his body seemed to enjoy insisting that it was perfectly fine, thanks, even though nothing was fine at all. He was distinctly aware that there was more blood around him than would be safe for someone to lose. He was aware of the fact that there had been something wrong with L, even if he seemed normal now. It was like he was aware of every detail of dying, but he couldn’t quite seem to connect the dots to realize that, if he kept losing blood, there would be no future. “I feel like… how I imagine I would feel if Myrnin had just partaken in a three-course meal,” Orpheus replied, raising a hand to his forehead and pressing a palm against his temple. It was helping to clear the headache and the dizzy, lightheaded lull that had seemed to come over him. He couldn’t clear it, even if he wasn’t losing blood anymore. He had no doubt that the House could put blood back in his body if it wanted to, but it didn’t seem as though it wanted to this time. Orpheus was half convinced to glare at it. Part of him believed that might actually be successful, given nothing else had worked. He just… wanted the House to do as it was asked. Once. It had been kind to heal them both, but it wasn’t offering any answers at all. “You… your mind wasn’t working right. Are you alright? I was… I was scared for you.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 25, 2021 1:09:23 GMT -5
L, on the other hand, was highly aware that Orpheus was in danger. He couldn’t seem to stop seeing the knife flash, couldn’t stop seeing the blood. His memories of what had happened were poor to nonexistent, but he still felt the fear in his chest, the sense of disconnected urgency as he tried to sit up in a dark room and figure out where he was and why his head was pounding. He knew this was bad. He wanted out of this room, but he wouldn’t leave Orpheus behind. He wasn’t thinking of the House anymore. Yes, it was responsible for this, of course but it never did as it was told, and L had no reason to believe that it would here. It had healed them, but that was because it had wanted to. It had nothing to do with what they wanted. “Don’t worry about me,” he replied softly, shaking his head. “Please, don’t worry about me. You need to rest. You lost a lot of blood…” he wasn’t going to look at the body. He wasn’t going to think about that. Orpheus needed him, and that was all that mattered. “We’re going to wait here, until you’re feeling better. And then we’ll find a way out. Alright?”
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