Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 24, 2021 23:02:47 GMT -5
Orpheus felt firmly that this wasn’t his to watch. L hadn’t invited him here. It was a part of his history that… well, Orpheus wasn’t sure he wanted to keep it secret, but… he’d never mentioned it. Maybe because it had just never come up. Or maybe it was because L didn’t want him to know. Either way… this was incredibly personal, and Orpheus wanted to make the adults leave L alone, wanted to turn off the lights and give him the space to be alone and safe. At least… at least the one man was kind. He watched carefully, nervously eying the people who had tried to grab L. The people who had made this situation unpleasant for him, when it didn’t have to be as bad as it was. It was already a terrible situation. L deserved the kindness of adults who didn’t use the wrong pronouns or try to grab him… he felt no pity for the person who had been bitten. They had it coming. Orpheus breathed out, turning his attention instead towards the man who had introduced himself as Quillish Wammy. He was patient, Orpheus had to give him that. And he wasn’t trying to make things worse for L. Orpheus almost moved forward as the smaller version of L fell to the ground, wishing he could braid his hair, sing to him, make this better. He couldn’t. He just had to watch. Oh. Orpheus’ gaze flicked up as Watari introduced himself. So… this was Watari. He looked… kind. Yes, that was perhaps the best word for it. Kind. Orpheus couldn’t help but like him, especially seeing how he treated L. There was respect there. Respect none of the other adults had had. No wonder L ended up trusting him. It felt like it was time to move on. Did the House choose this memory, or was it something L himself had picked out? Or was it just that this memory always lay behind that door? “Are you ready to move on?” he asked softly, looking at the ghostly L beside him. He almost called him Λ, but he doubted that would go over very well with an L who didn’t know him. “I… hate to ask, but can you feel where it is in your mind? I don’t want to snoop through more than I have to without your permission…” If it was his mind… well, if it was his mind, it wouldn’t matter. There was nothing he wasn’t alright with L seeing. But if it was his mind, he’d have no way to tell L that. It was best to assume that L didn’t want him in here any longer than he had to be. “I don’t… mean to sound egotistical, but… if we find the memories with me, we’re probably getting close. If you don’t remember me at all.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 24, 2021 23:28:33 GMT -5
The ghostly version of L watched the memory play out, just as he knew it would. The thing he had that wasn’t as clear was how it felt. The fear. The pain. The confusion. The cacophony of emotions he had no name for, no way to escape, though he’d tried. The adults hadn’t helped. He didn’t think they’d meant him harm, but especially as a child being touched when he was having what he now knew was a meltdown...back then he only knew it was too much to fit in his head. He didn’t quite look at Orpheus. He didn’t know what he would see if he did. If he’d been himself, if he’d known Orpheus, he might have been watching him instead of the memory, seeing his reaction to it. But he didn’t know him. When he saw Watari, even though he knew logically the other man was in the past and couldn’t help him now, he relaxed. Watari had a way of making the room safe, calming him, making things okay again. Even this first meeting had been that way. He hadn’t tried to grab L, hadn’t tried to stop or suppress him, had just let time do it’s work. He finally looked at Orpheus, seeing the recognition at the name. So...he knew of Watari. Were he himself, he’d have already surmised that he must have told Orpheus about Watari, but never been able to show him what he looked like. As it was, he didn’t quite get that far before his thoughts escaped. “Watari always knew how to make things alright, again,” he murmured, looking back at the scene as his smaller self paced. He didn’t know why or how they were here. Only that they were. “Yes,” he added quietly, looking back at Orpheus. “Let’s go.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to feel it in his head. “Yes….I know which way we should go,” he said suddenly, opening his eyes. “This way. It’s this way.” He turned away from himself and Watari, towards another door. Then paused and looked back at Orpheus, hesitating. “You may be right. I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know how to tell. Or whether I can tell. You’re...probably better at thinking than me.” He shrugged, but he didn’t like the uneasy feeling that his brain was mostly useless at the moment. He turned, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading for the door.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 0:30:09 GMT -5
“Knows,” Orpheus corrected softly, glancing up at L and giving him a small smile. “Not knew,” he added as explanation, unsure if L’s mind was alright enough to have picked up on what he means. “I don’t… know exactly what you’re thinking, but I know you’re worried. Your lips are pursed – it’s barely noticeable, but… you do it when you’re worried.” He shook the thought off, not meaning to have gone on a tangent. “What I’m trying to say is you’re going to see Watari again. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you do. So… you don’t need to use the past tense.” He glanced at the younger L. He didn’t seem calm yet, but nobody could expect that of him after everything he’d just been through. At least he was safe, with Watari. At least Watari knew how to respect him and care for him. Orpheus didn’t know how badly L’s cognitive abilities were failing him. If he had… well, he wasn’t sure he could have done much differently. He was still going to let L make the choices, because this was his head and he wasn’t going to cross any lines here unless he absolutely had to. “We’re going to fix that,” he said again, and this time he did sound more confident. He was absolutely certain that they were going to be able to fix this. They were in L’s head, and L knew which way to go… there was no chance at all that Orpheus was going to back down now. He glanced at where L was going, then took a second to glance at the younger L, the way Watari was signing calmly to him. He couldn’t hide his smile. Not every memory was going to be this happy. It wasn’t that L had an unhappy life, it was just that… bad things happened to everyone. And L saw an awful lot of bad things happening on a daily basis. Orpheus didn’t know what to expect out of the next door. He had a feeling it was going to be another memory, but there was no way to be certain. Maybe it would be a case. Maybe it would be a room filled with thoughts. Whatever it was… as long as it got Orpheus closer to fixing this, he was fine with it. He just hoped that the L leading the way to the door was fine with it as well. This had to be harder for him than it was for Orpheus. Guiding a stranger through your mind was one thing, but doing it while you couldn’t think properly at all? “I need you to tell me if something doesn’t feel right,” Orpheus suddenly said as he reached the door. “This is about your safety. And helping you. And even if you can’t tell why it’s wrong… please tell me if something feels wrong.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 0:57:54 GMT -5
L glanced up, uncertain what Orpheus meant by the correction. Then he hears the explanation and gave a soft “oh,” his eyes widening a little at the fact that Orpheus had picked up on that. It was this that made him wonder how well Orpheus knew him. Wonder how long they’d known each other, whether they actually were close. It seemed they were...Orpheus seemed to know him, and to also care for him, and he didn’t know what to make of that. “I’m worried,” he confirmed quietly, shifting his weight a little. “I can’t think...thinking makes me who I am. When I had nothing…” a glance at his smaller self, now calmer, watching Watari with large dark eyes, “...I had that. And now it’s gone and I don’t even know how likely it is to stay gone.” He didn’t look at his memory again. He turned instead to look at the door, hesitant, unsure he wanted to go through. This memory was a very personal one. What would the next one be like? He couldn’t predict what it might be. He had no idea. Maybe he would have had a clue, if he’d been himself, but it was probably best not to keep wondering what he would do in that case, because it wasn’t happening, not unless Orpheus found a way to help him. He had no idea what to expect from Orpheus. No idea whether Orpheus was going to be able to help. He didn’t know him, didn’t know what memory would come next, and if it was a bad one...what if there were things he didn’t remember? Bad things? He glanced at Orpheus, his pursed lips becoming a little more apparent, then looked back at the door, tensing a little as he reached for it. Then paused as Orpheus spoke again, glancing back at him, eyes wide. “I will,” he promised, dipping his head. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell, but I’ll try.” He stepped through the door, holding it for Orpheus before he turned to face the room. There was...sand under his feet. And the smell...he stepped back, tensing as the smell of blood hit him, as well as dust and something he didn’t recognize. It was a large, circular room, and foggy, hard to see through….he couldn’t tell where he was, he felt disoriented, unsure, and he turned to see if he could find Orpheus, fear stabbing him as he wondered suddenly whether he was alone now. He didn’t know Orpheus, but he didn’t want to do this alone. He didn’t want to get lost inside his own broken mind without Orpheus’ calming presence. Perhaps his body remembered Orpheus, even if his head didn’t, “Orpheus,” he managed, his voice sharp with fear as he turned, something stabbing the air, a noise, he couldn’t identify. The fog was making it hard to tell what was happening, and he hugged himself, feeling very small and alone.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 1:58:50 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t want to cross any of this L’s boundaries. He didn’t want to hurt him by making assumptions, didn’t want to act like they were still close when L didn’t know him. It wouldn’t be fair to him. ‘Hi, you love me, even though you don’t know me and spent your life thinking yourself incapable of love. And I love you, even though you thought it even more unlikely that anyone else could be capable of loving you.’ Because that would go over well. Even in this state, L wouldn’t believe him about that. He would just have to learn by remembering, and Orpheus would have to keep a safe distance away until L came closer himself. This wasn’t about his feelings. This wasn’t about the way he felt his heart shatter seeing L this scared and helpless. “I’ve never been as good at calculations as you are,” he told L, holding his gaze for a long moment. “I don’t know what variables to consider, I don’t know how to add it all up together in my head. But what I do know is there’s not even a 1% chance that your ability to think is going to be gone forever. Because you’re not alone here.” He knew L had no reason to believe him. He knew that L could think his words some sort of manipulation tactic, but Orpheus had earned his trust once. How hard could it be to show L for this short period of time that he wasn’t going to hurt him? “I’m not asking you to trust me yet,” he told L, a tiny smile landing on his face, “But I’m not leaving here until your thoughts are working the way they should be.” Orpheus followed L into the room, trying to peer through the fog. It wasn’t easy. The sand was making it hard to ground himself, and the scent of blood in the air made everything taste metallic. He let out a soft breath, trying to figure out where they were. Then he heard his name and immediately moved to L’s side, trying to show that he was there. “Is it alright if I take your hand?” he asked, searching L’s dark eyes. He hadn’t known to ask the first time he had done it. But this L was scared and uncertain, and Orpheus was barely more than a stranger. He glanced out, trying to squint to see past the fog. And then he saw someone. Someone he thought he knew, though it was hard to tell with the way the fog was blocking the memory. The House. Sand. Blood. “Oh.” Orpheus’ voice was low and uncertain, but not terribly surprised. “I know what memory this is,” he told L softly, searching his gaze. “How much do you remember this? Because I can… I can tell you what happened without this fog here, but it might hurt. It might make things better, it might clear things, but it might hurt at the same time. And I already put you to sleep without your permission, I… don’t want to do this without asking you first.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 2:21:12 GMT -5
If L had known, if he’d understood he didn’t know, he would have fallen silent, uncertainty clawing at him. He was already confused and scared, but if he’d known that? He might have bolted. But he didn’t remember, and L didn’t tell him, and that meant he stayed where he was, trying to make his brain work the way he felt it was supposed to. It was like a shredded painting, parts indecipherable, parts missing completely, incomplete. He could tell where bits were supposed to be, but some had been ripped away entirely, leaving him questioning everything and trying to convince himself he was okay, though he knew that was a lie. Even though his understanding of who Orpheus was was gone, it seemed his brain...or his brain’s muscle memory...remembered him. Because he wanted nothing more than to simply believe him. To trust him. He didn’t, not yet. But he wanted to. “Yes,..alright.” He murmured, not looking away from Orpheus. He felt a little better, not being alone. He hoped this was the right decision...truthfully, he didn’t know. But he could hope. He didn’t like the room he stepped into. It was hard to pinpoint anything, the shifting sand under his feet throwing him off balance and the fog obscuring it all from view. He looked up as Orpheus joined him, and the muscles in his face relaxed a litt,e because at least he wasn’t alone here. He didn’t have to trust Orpheus to be grateful that he was there. “Yes,” he whispered before he could stop himself. He solidified the decision by reaching for Orpheus’ hand, the fear winning out over the mistrust. He peered out into the fog, his features tense as he tried to tell who was there. Someone was...there were sounds, but they were distorted and he didn’t know what they meant. He turned to Orpheus slowly, searching his eyes. Odd, that they were in L’s head and yet Orpheus’ recognized the memory first. But from his badly his cognitive abilities were treating him...maybe not unexpected. He didn’t know. He couldn’t predict anything at the moment. “Tell me,” he murmured, dark eyes meeting the other blinker’s, body tense. “I think I need to know,” he added in a softer voice, looking away, shifting his weight. “If I’m to be fixed.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 2:46:01 GMT -5
Orpheus glanced down at their hands, carefully folding his over L’s. He’d gotten comfortable with the weight of L’s hand in his. Even though L wasn’t fully tangible, being with him and being able to hold him and comfort him made it worth it. Hopefully, if nothing else, his presence there grounded L. Hopefully, holding hands made the detective feel just a little bit better. It was a scary room, even without whatever haze had fallen over it. Orpheus had never been in it, but… he had heard. He knew why L had been so terrified while he was dying after the frogger game. It made sense, that you never forget your first death. Orpheus was just lucky enough not to have experienced it yet. Yet. That’s what it came down to when death was the question. There was no way around it. There was just the matter of whether you came back or whether you stayed gone. “Okay,” Orpheus whispered, holding L’s gaze for a long moment. He didn’t let go of L’s hand, even as he moved his instrument back to the front. It still looked like a guitar, but he definitely wasn’t playing it like one – he was doing it one handed, and it seemed to make more notes than a guitar should have. “If you need me to stop…” he left the end of the thought unfinished. He trusted L to tell him if that were the case. The first few notes were tentative as he tried to work out a melody, tried to figure out how to best tell the story. He settled for a rhythm of hauntingly high notes that rang through the room despite how big it seemed to be. His eyes closed for just a moment as he improvised an intro, then he began to sing. A challenge, they said, a sort of competition One winner, one life, could have gained recognition.
He risked a glance up, pleased to see that some of the fog was retreating. When you arrived So many had died What were you Supposed to do?
He let the note hang for just a moment, the air clearing just enough to see the scattered body on the ground, L standing just a few feet away, eyes wide. Orpheus chose not to look at the ghostly L behind him. A fight to the death, the trophy the life of your loved ones Dozens of weapons laid on the ground, the weight of one life must be tons.
A friend you saw Your smile did saw Until he attacked No turning back.
Orpheus closed his eyes, not wanting to watch as Myrnin approached in the memory. He said I can’t let you kill, I’ll shoulder this burden To save you your pain he was determined
He didn’t know You were afraid to go Hands on your neck Your lungs just a wreck
A challenge, they said, a sort of competition A friend took your life, your breath soon gave out without permission.
Orpheus let the final note hang in the air, breath stopping as he realized the fog had been at least partially cleared. There, in the center of arena, lay L. His dark eyes stared up, angry red marks disturbing the too-pale skin. Orpheus had to look away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, glancing over at the L who was still alive. “There was no way for that not to hurt.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 3:20:23 GMT -5
L watched, and listened. The song...the song was haunting, filling him, bringing the memory out as it went. He remembered blinking in, chocolate covered strawberry in hand. This was early on...he hadn’t known as much then. Maybe. It was still hazy, still hard to tell for sure, He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t speak, not even as the fog cleared and he could watch it play out in front of him, watch as he and the vampire had their conversation that came back to him in bits and pieces. “This is where I used my real name the first time…” he murmured as the memory returned. “This was also my fifteenth blink. And…” He broke off, confused. “I don’t remember,” he said quietly, but he did remember now. He couldn’t stop seeing it, seeing the way his head snapped back as his body went limp, as Myrnin dropped him. He turned away from the body, looking at Orpheus instead, eyes wide. It hurt...of course it did. How could it not hurt? “I’m okay,” he whispered, squeezing Orpheus’ hand a little. “It’s just a bit hard to…” he waved a hand, indicating the room in general. Without the ability to him clearly, he was finding it hard to express himself. He breathed, trying to think of what else this room needed from him. “His name is Myrnin.” He breathed, nodding at the vampire. “And….we talked a bit, after this, I think. I get the feeling we’re friends...I don’t know how that’s possible when he killed me, but I do.” He turned away. His head hurt from trying to process this. “That way,” he managed softly, nodding at the next door. Probably best to leave, while L was still mostly okay.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 3:30:00 GMT -5
It was hard to imagine L as a new blinker. In Orpheus’ experience he had always been one of the most experienced ones in any room, he always knew what was going on better than everyone else. It was hard to imagine him not knowing the House as clearly as he did now. How many of his theories had he had at this point? Had he known that people were likely to come back, or had he thought death was permanent? Orpheus shook the thoughts away. He didn’t need to be theorizing about L before he met him. If he wanted to know, he could ask when L was himself again. “Fifteenth,” Orpheus echoed, a brow raising. “That was a very long time ago.” Orpheus didn’t know how many blinks he himself had under his belt, but if he had to guess it was likely over one hundred. It had been several years since he’d first started blinking, and he blinked in not constantly, but still pretty often. He glanced down at their hands again, relief flooding him to hear that L was okay. It… probably wasn’t the best idea to stay in the same room as your dead body, though, so Orpheus figured it was probably best if they left soon. He began to lead the way to the door L had indicated, considering what he had said. “I haven’t seen you both together often,” Orpheus admitted, glancing back at L for just a moment, “but I got the impression that you were both still friends.” He didn’t say he was still upset that Myrnin had killed L in the first place. He had made his peace with Myrnin. Mostly. Carefully, he turned the doorknob, then looked at L once for permission before making his way into the next room. The next memory.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 3:55:50 GMT -5
L had been very different, back then. He had blinked in a lot since he had had his first blink, but this...deep in the past though it was...it still affected him, more than he knew at the moment. It still flashed in his dreams sometimes. He had come back, even if he hadn’t expected to...he had lived. He hadn’t yet been confident that was possible when it happened. Hadn’t had any way of knowing how likely it was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. It felt like or spoke for itself, in a way. He probably had more blinks than Orpheus did. He’d been blinking longer, after all. But...it was also possible that Orpheus had blinked more often and caught up. L knew his exact number of blinks, but not Orpheus’. They would probably never know for sure who had blinked in more. He followed, stepping through the door, eyes scanning the room carefully as he did. It was...dark. And strange. And L didn’t recognize it...which made sense. They were getting closer. But he wanted to be able to recognize his own memory. It was the living room, but darker, harder to see. It was like there was a towel thrown over the lights, dimming them, and things were blurry and out of focus, especially the person playing the guitar in the middle of the room. His features were blurred and his face was impossible to focus on, but the light seemed to follow him and where he stepped, the ground turned more solid.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 4:06:39 GMT -5
It was much too late for Orpheus to begin counting his blinks. Maybe one day the House would be kind enough to tally them up for him so they both could know for sure who technically had more experience. No matter who technically had more blinks, though Orpheus thought he would always see L as the most experienced blinker. He had explained the House to him, after all. He was the reason Orpheus had even begun to understand this place. He was the reason Orpheus had promised to make it even, because he had explained that it wasn’t. It should have been. And if Orpheus succeeded, it would be. Eventually. Already… already he was beginning to believe that it might be better than it had been. “Oh.” The soft gasp escaped Orpheus, eyes widening as he recognized where they were. That was his face, blurred and unrecognizable. Orpheus took a tentative step forward, closer to the man that had been him once, in L’s memory. Before the House had decided to blot him out. He breathed out, not quite letting go of L’s hand as he tried to sit down in the same space as the memory. Might he be able to meld with it? Become the boy he had been when he had first met L? At least… give a face to the musician L was obviously trying to remember? He remembered this meeting in detail. Remembered almost every last word. Remembered the song he had been playing when he blinked in. He closed his eyes, trying to set himself back in time, trying to become the version of him who didn’t yet know what the House could do. He looked over at L, unsure if the faded memory was doing the same thing. He couldn’t think what else to do. He couldn’t play about this room, or any others involving himself. He didn’t want to give L’s paranoid mind any possibility to latch onto the idea that these memories were lies.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 11:14:19 GMT -5
Even if the House told them how many times Orpheus had blinked in, would L believe it? What reason would it have to lie? He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. It was best to simply trust nothing at all, at the moment, rather than using his fragmented logic to pick out who was safe. Trust no one, not even himself, then. Even his gut feelings were to be discarded as unsafe. If he’d been himself, he’d have agreed that Orpheus had already made it better, but he didn’t know that now. The House was not kind, but it had done kind things. Did that mean the House could be not cruel but have done cruel things? Did it work in reverse? He looked sharply at Orpheus, trying to understand what the gasp was about. He didn’t remember this, didn’t understand what he was seeing...did Orpheus know? “Do you know what this is?” He murmured, frowning a little as Orpheus tried to occupy the same space as the memory was. He should have understood, but he didn’t. He simply watched, helplessly trying to figure out what Orpheus was doing. “Do you know what this is?” He repeated, voice a little sharper. He was nervous and highly aware that he was supposed to know more than he did. He tensed a little as Orpheus looked at him, the memory failing to do the same. It was a not creepy, like the thing had two heads….L didn’t like that. He turned a little as someone else appeared, a slim man in a white shirt and jeans, shoulders hunched a little as he looked at the other memory. He, too, was impossible to focus on, his face blurred, even the color of his clothes and hair uncertain and flickering. The ghostly L watched as the other him approached the faded Orpheus, then glitched and disappeared before he got there. The image blinked in again, tried to approach, and vanished. “I don’t remember this…” he murmured uncertainly, looking at Orpheus. “What is this?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 12:04:32 GMT -5
Orpheus breathed out, reluctantly standing back up. So his plan hadn’t worked. His plan had just made L more nervous. It hurt, seeing the blurred, barely recognizable L approach without ever actually getting there. It reminded him of stories he had heard of Sisyphus, doomed to keep doing the same task for eternity but without ever actually succeeding. Orpheus knew how to help here, he knew he could tell L the truth, but… part of him still wanted L to remember. Part of him didn’t want to consider the possibility that L might think his song a lie. He had no reason to lie about Myrnin, but about himself? He didn’t, of course, but it wouldn’t be unrealistic for L to think he might. Alright, then… how vague could he make the song so that the memory came back on its own? “Yes,” he said reluctantly, staring at the version of himself that didn’t look much like him at all. It was impossible to focus on for too long, so he turned his head away to avoid the burgeoning headache he was already starting to feel. “I know what this is,” he murmured after a long moment, then twisted his lyre back around to the front again. He didn’t use his own name as he played. He sang of L meeting a stranger, a stranger playing an instrument. He sang of a music lesson, however brief, sang of the way L had learned to deftly move his fingers to play the write chords. The song he sang was softer than the last one, not as tense or frightening. And he kept going. He sang of the stranger’s idealism, sang of how the stranger had never been in the House before, how he asked L if it was fair. And he sang of L’s response. The song came to a pause as Orpheus decided whether or not the next part was necessary. Eventually, he decided it probably was. The melody picked back up, quieter this time, slower. And Orpheus sang of a promise the stranger made, a promise to try to make the House even. A promise the stranger had offered L a part of. Eventually the song broke off and Orpheus looked over at L, his own expression cleaved wide open. He remembered this so well… and it hurt that L didn’t remember it at all. He couldn’t look at the strange versions of himself and L. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know if the song hadn’t worked.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 20:17:08 GMT -5
L barely recognized himself. He knew it was him, of course, but it wasn’t quite clear who the other person was. He didn’t remember this. Orpheus did...he was sure he was supposed to draw a conclusion of some sort from that, but he didn’t know what it would be. Maybe….no, he didn’t know. He couldn’t know until he was able to think again. He looked at Orpheus, eyes round and confused. He was trying, that much seemed clear… Part of this seemed to be messing with L’s ability to be as paranoid as he normally was. He shouldn’t have been so ready to trust Orpheus. Or maybe not even his paranoia could stop his brain from connecting Orpheus to positive memories and safety He couldn’t stare at the people he barely recognized for long. They hurt his brain. But he could look at the real Orpheus for as long as he wanted to, and he did, staring uncertainly. He listened quietly as Orpheus began to play a new song. He didn’t understand it...but slowly, the memory shifted, and slowly, it wasn’t as impossible to look at them. He closed his eyes, feeling something in his head shifting. This was a more powerful memory than the others had been. He could tell. What was it about this one that felt so central to him? What was it that felt like a part of him was missing as he felt it, like holding a package and trying to guess what was inside. The promise was what tore the package open. He gasped a little as the faces came into shocking clarity, and his eyes closed, his arms flying up on either side of his head as something broke, or, more accurately, snapped painfully into place. Orpheus. Orpheus. The promise. Orpheus. He didn’t remember everything, but now he could tell exactly what he was missing and it hurt. He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t move, until he slowly sank to the floor, still pressing his head between his arms. He didn’t speak. Didn’t know if he could. Why was this memory so powerful? He didn’t know. But he had a feeling it was the beginning of something bigger than he could possibly understand.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 22:33:38 GMT -5
Orpheus watched L carefully, still not quite daring to look at the memory. He didn’t know if it had worked. He didn’t know if their faces were clearer, didn’t know if L had been able to approach him… he didn’t know if he could fix this. He didn’t know if he could make this easier. It was the House that had caused this, the House that had stolen L's memories and poisoned them like this. He took a deep breath as the song finished, then risked a glance back at the memory. He recognized them, now. They both looked so young… it had been… what, four years? Five? Orpheus tried to push back the rush of affection he felt seeing younger L, the one who had become his first friend. Neither looked that different now, but… Orpheus saw his own idealism reflected in his younger face. He saw L’s curiosity, which he had gotten a bit better at hiding among strangers. It took a few moments for Orpheus to remember what sort of effect the memory might have had on L. He hadn’t seen him fall (which was probably a good thing, since he likely would have tried to ease his descent, and that probably wouldn’t have gone over well). He didn’t know if he had fallen. All he knew was that L was on the floor, hands over his ears like the room was too loud. Hesitantly, Orpheus shrugged the strap of his instrument over his shoulder and set it gently on the ground so he wouldn’t accidentally knock it and make a noise that would disturb L. Then he took a few steps forward, staying a safe distance from L even as he sat down within his line of sight should he open his eyes. Orpheus had some time, he supposed, before L felt alright enough to open his eyes. He held his hands out in front of him, practicing what he might say when L finally looked up. He still wasn’t perfect at sign language, but he was proficient enough to hold a conversation. Proficient enough to hopefully make L a little bit more comfortable here. He should have warned L. He should have warned L that this room might be harder than the last. Only… he hadn’t known that. Dying… dying was a bigger deal than meeting someone important, right? Except… L had remembered a fair bit about Myrnin after Orpheus had reminded him of the memory. And there were dozens more memories – feelings strong enough to drown in – that probably accompanied a reminder of Orpheus. He wished love wasn’t this painful. He wished he could give L a soft place to land, but the best he could manage was to set everything right and hopefully be free to hold him when the issue was fixed.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 26, 2021 18:03:27 GMT -5
L didn’t have to watch the memory anymore. He remembered this. He remembered enough. It hadn’t been that dramatic of a blink, all things considered...they hadn’t even done a room. They’d met. L had played the lyre a bit, then given it back, realizing he would never come close to the skill Orpheus had. He’d been curious, then, about the music. He’d had no idea what effect the person playing it would have on him. Love was agony to remember, and remember he did, slowly. He didn’t need to watch to know the younger L had made it to Orpheus and now held the lyre, plucking the strings gently as though afraid to hurt it. He’d thought it alive, back then. He’d been right. He didn’t remember Orpheus was there too. He didn’t remember the present, he was in the past, the deep feelings swallowing him whole, devouring him. He loved Orpheus. Knew him. Trusted him. He didn’t remember enough, and at the same time he remembered everything, and the gaps hurt like stab wounds in his brain. Slowly he came back to himself as the pain faded a bit, and he opened his eyes, immediately focusing on Orpheus, who sat nearby now. His eyes were wide, The feelings were so strong. So powerful. He wasn’t sure he could speak, didn’t know how to make the words work, and when he met Orpheus’ eyes, his dark ones flickered with endless thoughts and feelings even he couldn’t sort out. Remembering hurt. He was going to have to move on here soon. Was there a time limit to how long they could be in here? Was there any way to tell? He couldn’t think clearly enough to know that. Couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t… He wasn’t himself yet, but he was getting closer. Orpheus was his anchor. Orpheus, whose presence was by definition calming, who made him feel safe again, even now when he only barely knew him. Dying hadn’t even hurt this much, and it had hurt a lot, he remembered that much.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 27, 2021 3:04:42 GMT -5
Orpheus knew the memory well. It was one his mind had preserved, one he revisited often. He wondered, often, how lucky he had gotten that L had been the one to explain the House to him. Would they even have become friends had someone else explained it? Orpheus would have asked his questions, made his promise to anyone. But the fact that he’d made it to L… it had pulled him towards L in rooms where he was the only one he knew. It had drawn him towards the detective before they had been friends, well before L had ever decided to trust him. Looking at L now… he could tell that the memory had a big impact on him, too. It was the start of something neither of them had understood at the time. “Hey,” he signed softly, trying to make sure his hands didn’t shake, trying to make sure his signs were clear and easy to understand. “Are you feeling okay?” That was a dumb question, Orpheus realized moments after he had asked it. If L was feeling alright, he wouldn’t have reacted as he had. “At least… better than before?” he clarified, trying to make the concern evident on his face. Though he was naturally a very expressive person, sometimes he had a hard time matching the expressions exactly to the signs. He was still just learning. He couldn’t imagine how much it could hurt to remember. He couldn’t imagine the flood of emotions that must come with the memory. All he knew was that he was going to be there for L through this, he was going to help him through and guide him through until they found a way to fix it. Orpheus could hear the tentative way memory L plucked at the strings. He heard his own soft voice encouraging him, showing him how to play different chords. The lyre, heavy on his back, felt as much a memory as either of them were. L wouldn’t have approached him quite so quickly if he hadn’t been playing it. “We don’t have to move on yet,” he signed to L, trying to reassure him. “Only when you’re ready.” He didn’t know how much L remembered. Judging from his reaction, though… it was more than just this first meeting.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 28, 2021 15:31:01 GMT -5
If L hadn’t been the one to explain...where would they be now? If L hadn’t been the one Orpheus made his promise to? If they hadn’t met on that day? L didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about how different things could be, not when he was barely clutching onto the memories he had right now. He didn’t care if there was a world where he didn’t know or trust or love Orpheus, as long as he wasn’t in it. He watched Orpheus begin to sign to him, and he was grateful. It hurt, to remember. It hurt to be sitting here looking at Orpheus while thoughts and feelings he didn’t quite recognize raced through his head. “I’m okay,” he signed back, and he forced himself to believe it. He couldn’t let this stop him. It hurt, yes, but...the worry in Orpheus’ eyes hurt too. He didn’t have an option. He didn’t have time for this, this pain, this confusion. He shoved it back, forcing himself to breathe. He grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way his brain attacked him with memories, thoughts, emotions...all of it. Meeting Orpheus for the first time...this, it seemed, was where he stored a lot of his emotions about the other blinker. “I can move on,” he added out loud, his voice low but clear. “I don’t want to know what will happen if we stall. I...remember...but I still can’t think. I still don’t know how to make my mind work.” He glanced at the memory again. He saw the way he seemed almost afraid of the instrument. He still felt that way, a little bit. It was such an important thing, it felt wrong to hold it, sometimes. He turned, heading for a door, then glancing back at Orpheus, eyes wide and uncertain. His memory was a haze, but… He offered Orpheus his hand. He didn’t know if he would take it, but he didn’t want to be alone, not even in his own head, it seemed. “Let’s get through this.” He murmured, forcing a confidence he didn’t feel into his tone.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 28, 2021 21:08:13 GMT -5
Orpheus nodded, searching L’s expression for a moment to make sure he wasn’t lying. L seemed uncomfortable, but… Orpheus couldn’t blame him for that. He would have been uncomfortable too if he’d been trapped in his own mind without a way to think. And he didn’t even rely on thinking, most of the time. What would it be like for L, not to be able to think? Unfathomable, Orpheus decided. All the more reason to get out of here faster. “We’re going to fix it,” Orpheus said, losing track of how many times he had told L that already. They were already closer to fixing it than they had been when Orpheus had first said it. Progress… progress was good, but it wasn’t enough. His eyes narrowed and he forced the thought away, instead giving L a reassuring smile, then followed his gaze back towards the memory. It was important. It was so important, but they would have time to revisit it when L was alright. Or… well, maybe they’d just be able to talk about it when that happened. He didn’t want to spend any more time in L’s head than he was welcomed to. It wasn’t his to explore, and L couldn’t really consent to having Orpheus probe around when he could barely even think. Orpheus’ eyes widened just a bit at the offered hand, but he stepped forwards and took it without hesitation. He was going to be there for L whenever he needed him, without question. He would follow L anywhere. Even into whatever was next. If this memory had been so distorted… was there another memory waiting for them that would be even more difficult to discern, or was this it? Were they getting to the thing that needed to be fixed? “You know… if you need to stop, or just… take a breath, that’s okay. I don’t want to do this at a pace that’s uncomfortable for you. You deserve to feel safe in your own head.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 28, 2021 23:31:44 GMT -5
L wasn’t exactly lying. He wasn’t exactly telling the truth, either, though. He was okay, but he didn’t particularly feel okay. Being inside his own head, having to trust Orpheus, getting this memory back...it hurt. A lot. But he wasn’t about to stop their progress just for that. It was a strange sensation, not being able to think. Everything was hazy, nothing quite made sense. But, for better or for worse, he found himself slipping towards trusting Orpheus. And Orpheus said it would be okay...so maybe it would be. He was trying so hard to believe him, to believe in him. And it was working. Would they come back here when L could think? He didn’t know. He still barely remembered Orpheus only knew how he felt about him, really. He didn’t know enough yet. He’d have to think about it when thinking about it became doable again. He shook his head a little at the words. “I’m fine,” he repeated, and headed for the next door, slipping through before Orpheus could protest. And found himself standing in a bright room with sweets laid out all around him, as well as screens, all filled with static. The room itself was also foggy, and it kept glitching, nearly vanishing altogether. L floated in, glancing around, eyes wide. “I don’t remember this, either.” He admitted quietly, glancing at Orpheus without letting his hand go. “Do...do you?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 28, 2021 23:40:27 GMT -5
Orpheus’ eyes narrowed as they moved into the next room. Were the memories just going in chronological order of times L had met Orpheus? Orpheus wasn’t sure he liked that, but he thought he could hear a brief snatch of music as though through a tinny, broken radio. “Yes,” he whispered, looking around, “I remember this. It’s… one of the worst rooms I’ve ever been in.” He squeezed L’s hand lightly, stepping forward towards one of the screens. He didn’t really know what L’s experience here had been. He had seen him talking to Sam after he died, and he had talked to him briefly himself. But… all he knew was that L had died. Why was the House making him remember his deaths? It almost made Orpheus’ blood boil. He winced as the room almost glitched away again, then laid a hand on one of the screens. After a long moment, he silently pulled his hand from L’s and moved his lyre to a playable position. “This one… isn’t as pleasant as the last one,” he told L, sympathy creasing his forehead. And then he began to play. He described looking out from above, described seeing the people on the in the middle of the arena, the first death… and then, just as suddenly as it had happened, the explosion that had killed L. He sang of a white scrap of fabric barely visible among the charred ground, and of L’s reappearance here. In this room, with sweets that nobody wanted to eat, with people feeling grief for their friends and family still in the arena. The song faded out, and Orpheus couldn’t help but hope that what he had given was enough to give the memory back. They hadn’t spoken of this one as often, he didn’t know the details like he had for the other two memories. It had been years ago… he barely remembered the conversation he and L had shared. He didn’t mean to be cavalier about it, it was just that the room was better off not remembered.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 1, 2021 0:05:57 GMT -5
L didn’t understand why the rooms were set up the way they were. He didn’t get the significance. He did know that Orpheus seemed to have a good understanding of most of the memories. He just couldn’t imagine why. “Oh,” he murmured uncertainly, watching Orpheus carefully. Another bad room. Would it be as bad as the last bad one? Would it hurt as much as the one after? He didn’t know what to expect here, he was completely ad the mercy of this place. His own head, apparently. And he hated it. He looked up as Orpheus moved, beginning to play again. He was lucky, he knew, to have someone who was willing to help him. To stay with him. Who had been there for him before he knew anything about him. He nodded a little. He understood that this wasn’t going to be pleasant. He was beginning to wonder which, if any, memories would be. He listened quietly as Orpheus played, as he sang of watching, not joining. So...he hadn’t been a part of the bad part. L found himself a bit relieved to know that...from what little he did remember, Orpheus deserved the best. He started as Orpheus sang of the explosion, and a chill washed over him. He...remembered that. Or rather, he didn’t. He remembered before and after. Walking towards the same vampire who has killed him before, then just...not. It was as easy as blinking. One second you were one place, the next, you were somewhere else entirely. It could happen at any second, too. Any moment he might be gone, nothing at all. He shivered, not liking the terror threatening to swallow him. “I don’t want to be here,” he murmured, eyes wide as he looked at Orpheus. He didn’t even want to try the sweets.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 1, 2021 0:14:19 GMT -5
Orpheus watched L’s expression carefully, taking his hand again as soon as the song was over. He didn’t want to leave L alone here, didn’t want to make him sit through bad memory after bad memory. He couldn’t blame the House for the way L’s mind was organized, but he could blame it for which memories it had chosen to destroy. It knew they would go through those memories on their way to fix the place where it was all broken down. Orpheus didn’t know which way they were supposed to go. He didn’t know why the House had chosen these memories to destroy. Had it wounded all of L’s memories of it, or just specific ones? Orpheus wanted to ask L what he remembered, but that was wasting time that they really didn’t have. He recognized the expression on L’s face. The fear, the uncertainty… it was enough to shatter Orpheus to his core. He wanted nothing more than to help L find a way out of this, to find a way to bring him to safety and flip the switch so that he could think properly again. “Are we ready to go?” he asked softly, searching L’s expression. He didn’t know if the memory was as clear as it needed to be, but he had a feeling L had seen what the House wanted him to see. Was this just a reminder of all the pain the House could put them through, if it wanted? Orpheus shook his head. Now was not the time to be cynical. “You have to lead the way,” he reminded L gently, looking at the myriad of different parts of the room that could be entrances or exits. There was only one door, but Orpheus had no idea if it led them where they needed to go.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 1, 2021 0:28:13 GMT -5
It didn’t occur to L that this might be the House’s doing, the way the memories were set up to be gone through. It should have. After all, L’s mind probably didn’t actually look like a hallway with text on the walls. It looked like...well, like a brain. But he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to make the connection. He wished it would get out of his head, though. It didn’t feel right, being broken like this. It didn’t feel like him, not really, not in the most important way. What did he actually remember...he thought he remembered a lot. Not Orpheus, not the House, but...his world. His actions. His life. He had remembered meeting Watari for the first time, after all. Still...it all felt messed up, like looking at it through a dirty window. He wanted to see it clearly again. He wanted to experience his own life clearly, wanted to feel it, wanted...well, to be himself. He really didn’t like how this was going so far. It just seemed to be getting worse. “Yes,” he said immediately, pulling Orpheus towards the door. It was the only way out, so he assumed it was the right way without checking. “This way,” he added confidently, pulling Orpheus along behind him. “I think.” He stepped through the door without a second thought. It was….dark. Very dark. He couldn’t see anything. He could hear it, though. A low humming, like electricity. And...something else. Someone was crying.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 1, 2021 0:36:22 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t recognize the room they entered. The other ones the House had impacted, though they had been difficult to place at first, had at least been familiar. Orpheus wasn’t sure this one had occurred in the House. Or, if it had, L had never mentioned it. He looked around, wincing at the sound of someone’s anguish. Or pain. He wanted to help comfort them, but he had a feeling that the memories couldn’t hear them. He didn’t know who was crying. He didn’t know if it was L or someone else, but in the end it didn’t really matter. There was nothing Orpheus could do to help them, no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted this room to be over. He wanted the House to just nicely give L his memory back without them having to go through all of this, but he knew the House didn’t work like that. It had tasks it wanted done, and if you couldn’t do them, too bad. You died, or you suffered. Sometimes the tasks were impossible. Other times, like now, the tasks just seemed terrible unfair. Orpheus breathed out, shaking his head. This was L’s head, these were his thoughts and memories, and Orpheus didn’t want to draw attention away from helping L. His own thoughts could wait. His own resentment at the House… well, he could vent that when L could think again. Almost without thinking, Orpheus raised his free hand to L’s scalp, very gently teasing his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I was here for this one,” he told L, letting his eyes close as the sounds of the memory grew just a bit more pervasive. He wouldn’t be able to tell L what had happened here. What he could do, however, was make it as easy as he possibly could for L to think. “I don’t like the ones you haven’t mentioned to me before,” he added softly, staring at the ground. “These sorts of things should have been your choice to share with me, not the House’s.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 1, 2021 0:54:58 GMT -5
L didn’t know where they were, either. Or...he didn’t know if he wanted to know. He had a bad feeling about this room. He had a very bad feeling about what had happened here. He recognized the crying. Knew, deep down, what this was. He felt sick, and he glanced at Orpheus even though he couldn’t see him, lips pursed so much they whitened. And then he let out a breath. Orpheus had started to play with his hair, he noted. And he relaxed a little at the feeling, understanding the intent immediately. It only served to make him even more sure he was right. “No...no, you couldn’t have been. This isn’t the House anymore.” He murmured, voice shaking a little. “I don’t...I don’t want…” He didn’t want Orpheus to find out this way. There seemed to be very little choice in the matter. “Beyond Birthday.” It was a statement. A little of the darkness receded at it, the room lighting up a little, a hunched figure on the floor, wearing a white shirt, becoming barely visible. The figure was shivering, arms wrapped around himself as though freezing cold. L reached a hand out to his former self, then dropped it, eyes closing for a moment. “It was bad timing…” he muttered, not looking at Orpheus. Not wanting to remind him. But...he had a feeling he needed to tell this in its entirety for the House to let them go. He shifted uncomfortably. “Beyond Birthday was a boy at Wammy’s House,” he murmured, staring at the floor. “A was dead. It was my fault. So...I was easier on BB. I didn’t watch him, I let him do what he wanted, I...I was careless. And strangers paid the price. He decided to create a case I couldn’t solve. To beat me. He dressed up as me...pretended to be me...he did a good job of it. His impersonation was near flawless.” Stop stalling, L. He swallowed. “He killed people. Including a thirteen year old girl. He was stopped, before he could finish setting the case up. Naomi Misora. She bested him.” He poked the ground. “I’m sorry I never told you,” he whispered, looking at Orpheus. The darkness was gone. Memory L was hunched on the floor, crying, alone, watching his computer. The file up was of the thirteen year old victim. “But...as I said. Bad timing. You didn’t need my pain on top of…”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 1, 2021 1:07:16 GMT -5
If L didn’t want to tell, Orpheus was fairly certain that he didn’t want to hear. It wasn’t his place to hear, wasn’t his right to hear the things that L had kept from him. He was just here to make it easier on L when he remembered. If he could have plugged his ears to let L keep the memory to himself… he would have. But he couldn’t help L if he did that, and helping L was more important. He breathed out, trying to focus instead on L’s voice. At least, it seemed, he knew what this was. At least they wouldn’t have to struggle through a difficult process of remembering. The crying hurt. Orpheus wanted to help fix it more than anything he could describe. He wanted to curl his arms around whoever was crying and tell them that it would be alright, but… he couldn’t. And he had the strangest feeling it was L. Had he ever seen L cry? He didn’t think he had, but they’d been through so many blinks before… it was a strange sound. Broken and uncertain, and impossible to help. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he whispered to L, squeezing his hand softly. “We’ll find another way out…” By the time he said that, it was too late. L was already talking, and Orpheus didn’t want to interrupt. Beyond Birthday. He thought he might have heard the name before, but he didn’t know for sure. Whatever this was… L hadn’t mentioned it. Orpheus glanced around the room as more if it became visible, brow furrowing and jaw hardening as he recognized the crying figure. It was L. Not too long ago, in fact. What was happening? Why hadn’t Orpheus been there to help? He wanted to go back in time and find his younger self to demand why he hadn’t been there when L was crying. “Bad… timing?” he asked, gaze searching L’s for a long moment before he let it go to hear the rest of the story. He would ask about that later. For now… he would listen to whatever it was L was crying about. And then he understood. Thirteen years old. Thirteen years old, and L blamed himself for her death. Bad timing. My pain on top of… Understanding flashed through Orpheus’ eyes like a spark, and without thinking, he pulled L into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his chin gently on the top of L’s head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I didn’t know, I’m sorry I was so caught up in…” he released his breath suddenly, unable to make himself say it. “It’s not your fault,” Orpheus added softly, tightening his grip just a little bit. “It’s not your fault that he hurt people.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 1, 2021 1:29:54 GMT -5
Orpheus was wrong. L needed to do this, he knew he did. Orpheus didn’t know, he didn’t understand...this, L felt, was what the House had intended here. For him to talk about this, at long last. When he had held it in for so long, for Orpheus’ sake, to protect him from having to cope with L’s pain on top of his own. When he had blinked in, he had been exhausted, almost ready to just throw himself at Orpheus and hold him and cry. But he hadn’t done that. Orpheus had blinked in and L had known from the moment he looked at him that something was seriously wrong. He had known instantly that the worst had happened. That Eurydice was gone, and she would never come back. L had been in love with Orpheus by then. He couldn’t currently remember when it had happened, but he knew he had been. But all he’d wanted was to bring Eurydice back, to save her, to see her and Orpheus together. He hadn’t been able to save her anymore than he had been able to save the thirteen year old girl BB had killed. One more failure, he supposed, on a lifetime built of failures. He’d have done anything, sacrificed anything, for Eurydice and Orpheus to make it. He’d have erased himself from the world, erased every memory of himself, every single hint of his existence, if it would have brought her back. But all he’d been able to do was watch as Orpheus shattered, and hold the lyre for him until he was able to feel again. Precious little he’d been able to do to help, he thought bitterly. And then Orpheus pulled him into a hug and he gasped a little, the action so at odds with his own thoughts he almost couldn’t believe it was happening at first. Couldn’t believe Orpheus wasn’t angry with him, somehow. For bringing it up, for not being good enough, for everything. “It is my fault,” he murmured, leaning closer so Orpheus could hold him. He was pressed against the other blinker, and he was shivering, the way his past self was. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t want to tell you...not when you were…” he couldn’t seem to say it, but he doubted he had to. It had hurt to be alone in it, but it would have hurt even more to put Orpheus through any more pain. “Don’t apologies for what you had to feel. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it. I’m sorry I wasn’t better.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 1, 2021 1:43:45 GMT -5
Orpheus had been going through a lot. He had been going through the worst, actually. The worst pain he had ever felt, the knowledge that he was a failure, that he was shattering and there was nothing he could have done to change it. The knowledge that he hadn’t been cheated by Hades, that the terms were perfectly fair, that all he had needed to do was to trust himself and to trust that Eurydice was following him. It was his fault she died. His fault that she hadn’t made it back, because he hadn’t been good enough. He hadn’t been good enough to lead her back to the surface. He wasn’t good enough to convince Hades to change, and though the flowers had started to bloom again, Orpheus couldn’t take credit for that. His song had caused it, but it wasn’t even his song. It was Hades’ song, from long ago. In saving Hades and Persephone, he had lost the one thing that had mattered to him above all else. If L had told him then, how would he have handled it? He would have… well, he would have pulled L into a hug and let them both shatter together. He wouldn’t have asked L to be his rock, wouldn’t have relied on L to help him piece himself back together. How… how had he not seen? He’d been blinded by self-pity and the stifling hands of failure. But he should have seen, still. He should have known what L was suffering. He should have been able to help. “Don’t say that,” he whispered softly, shaking his head as he bunched up part of L’s shirt in his fist and pulled him just a bit closer into the hug. He could still get away if he wanted to, but Orpheus needed him to know how much he loved him. How deeply he cared, how little this changed. Because L, as usual, had been trying his best. L, as usual, had done everything he could, and he was blaming himself for things that weren’t his fault. The worst part was L’s shivering, the shivering that Orpheus, no matter how tight he held him or how warm he was, couldn’t seem to stop. “I know you,” Orpheus whispered, his voice quiet against L’s ear, scarcely more than a soft breeze. “I know that you did everything you could have done. You can’t blame yourself for that. You can’t blame yourself for trying. You can’t… you can’t blame yourself for what someone else became.” Orpheus didn’t know how to feel. L had kept this pain inside for so long now, and Orpheus hadn’t noticed, not even once. What sort of friend was he? Shame bubbled in his stomach, but he pushed it away. “You have always been more than enough,” he added, shaking his head. “You helped me piece myself together, and I… I wasn’t there for you when you needed. I’m sorry I never noticed. But please don’t apologize for things that aren’t true.” His voice was soft, fragile – he wanted L to know how deeply he meant them. Like they were chipped off from his heart.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 1, 2021 2:11:05 GMT -5
L had never seen it as Orpheus’ fault. Never held Eurydice’s death over his head, never thought Orpheus had blood on his hands. The terms had been fair, but Hades hadn’t been. Hades...he could have released Eurydice, no strings attached. He could have let her go and he chose a stupid test, a stupid test that hadn’t even meant anything, because Orpheus had tried, Orpheus had tried as hard as he could and it was not his fault that he had turned around. L would have done the same thing, most likely. He was paranoid. He wouldn’t have trusted Hades. He probably wouldn’t have even made it to the underworld, in his place. He couldn’t have told him. He couldn’t have possibly done that, not when Orpheus was hurting so deeply. L had needed to be his friend, a steady rock, a comfort. There had been no room for his own pain. So he’d simply pretended it didn’t exist, and become what Orpheus had needed. He hadn’t ever expected to tell him. He knew Orpheus was likely to blame himself for not realizing...not telling him when it happened had been a decision he had made for the future, too. A secret he needed to keep, to protect his best friend. He had thought his love was the last one...he hadn’t thought of this, this secret he had kept not nearly as long. He wanted to believe Orpheus was right, but it felt like his fault. It felt like he could have done more. Should have done more. He couldn’t quite seem to believe otherwise, not after so long of blaming himself for their deaths, “She deserved better,” he managed in a ragged whisper, pressing against Orpheus as though he could stop shaking that way. “She deserved a life. They all deserved better, and I failed them, because I couldn’t see the truth. Because I didn’t want to believe BB was dangerous.” He breathed out, letting Orpheus’ words wash over him. Orpheus meant it. Of course he meant it. He was the single most genuine person L had ever met, he couldn’t lie to save his life, literally. And he would never have lied about this. Not even to make L feel better. He didn’t look at his former self, not even as the muted sound of crying washed over him. He remembered begging the House not to blink him in as he sobbed, as he felt the deaths like he’d known them personally. He remembered begging the House not to make him tell Orpheus what had happened. And, until now, the House had obliged. He had to thank it for that, he supposed. “You couldn’t have known,” he murmured, voice low and soft. “I was careful, and the House was kind, for once. Maybe not even it wanted to hurt you anymore..” probably not true, but he wanted to believe it, for once. “The point is that you didn’t deserve to have your friend breaking on top of everything else. I’m sorry I probably wasn’t as helpful as I could have been under different circumstances, though.”
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