evowhisperer | IC Voicemail

[For a little while, anyway, it's exactly what the doppelganger wants, and he soaks it up, pressing his angular body against Cesar's more solid one. He peers up expectantly when Cesar turns toward him, expecting at least a kiss, but then he's being rejected, pushed away in a way that makes him instinctively start to cling. His hands slip away at the shoulder shove, which must be the opposite of affection. It stings. He narrows his eyes, and then abruptly, his features even out into placid, deliberate indifference,]

Mm. I can see you want your space. That's fine. I'm the one who understands that, remember?

[He turns, climbing onto the bed with his counterpart. For the first time, the original stirs, half-raises his arm, but it's like the doppelganger said: it really seems like he can't wake up, not yet and not fully. The copy gently takes his wrist, catching it mid-motion as his own fingers search for a pulse point. Each touch and gesture is slow and delicate, and somehow it probably raises more alarm bells than anything blatantly aggressive could.]

It's not like you have to be here for me to help you out with your problems, even if you seem to have some trouble admitting what those are.

*Watching the doppelganger catch the original's wrist and search it is strangely offensive. The man's scars are exposed at this angle, and the copy is handling him like an object. There's something wrong about the way L lifted that arm--he's not exactly awake, but he's trying to be, isn't he? The doppelganger's lack of concern is also sounding alarm bells. Is there something more going on than a severe case of exhaustion?*

{What do you mean?}

*L would never be this subtle. Could the doppelganger be oblivious to what he seems to be implying? No, Cesar doesn't think he is, but he wants to believe his suspicions even less. For the first time since Cesar's arrival the doppelganger has him riveted, and he follows the copy's hands with his eyes.*

Edited 2015-04-02 07:33 (UTC)

[The doppelganger notices that he has Cesar's attention, and there's a spark of connection. It's what he wanted, and he takes his time reveling in it. His thumb finds the pulse point and lingers there as he visibly contemplates the heartbeat of his original.]

I mean nothing at all, Cesar. Even if I did, let's not get into that right now; you're talking like someone with places to be, and I wouldn't want to keep you from them.

[I always wanted to keep you from them.]

{What will you do if I go?}

*There's no point in denying that he wanted to leave, since it was stamped all over his face. Hell, if he weren't seeing with his own eyes just how helpless L was right now he might even still be considering it. What does the doppelganger have planned?*

*Cesar takes a step or so closer to the bed, trying to think of what to do. Push the doppelganger away from the copy? He's not doing anything right now, and it's not as though he could take him further than just a few feet. Let him continue touching his original, and only step in if things start getting sexual or dangerous in nature? ... The thought feels wrong. Just watching the copy now feels wrong, though he can't put words to why.*

So suspicious. I wonder what reason I've ever given you for it...

[Just lying about everything since I popped into existence. He has the upper hand here, though, and knows it. Chained to his unconscious counterpart, he has all the power over this situation, effectively holding the real L hostage.]

Don't worry. I'm sure I'll find some way to entertain myself. His heart rate's faster than it was an hour ago, so he'll probably wake up pretty soon. Won't that be fun?

[Sarcasm in spades, there, but it's a little subtler than this doppelganger's really prone to demonstrating.]

*Cesar pinches the bridge of his nose again, frowning deeply.*

{... Are you planning to do something to him if I go?}

*Dropping all subtlety, are we? He's not going to trust any answer he gets that isn't a 'yes', so unless L actually comes forward with an explanation he can tolerate, the question is useless.*

There you go... mixing us up again, but it's cute that you think I actually plan to do anything.

[Light, airy laughter.]

You should really know by now that I pretty much do whatever I feel like, Cesar.

[He creeps closer, brushing the hair back from his own face as he leans down and presses his ear against Lazarus' chest.]

He is having some exciting dreams.

*Cesar's gut clenches at the sight of the doppelganger's smiling face pressed next to L's heart. It's like the light touch at the man's wrist, and the closeness that climbing into bed with him has already: there's something wrong about it. L is too helpless to threaten to break his copy's fingers, let alone protest at all. It doesn't have to be sexual contact for it to be unwanted, and it's already far more than Cesar knows L would want. L is completely and absolutely at the doppelganger's mercy.*

*It's a display of power. Not over Cesar, but over L--and as long as Cesar cares about what happens to L, that means power over Cesar, doesn't it?*

{You always feel like having sex. Please get off the bed and stop touching him, L--you know as well as I do that if he were awake he wouldn't allow this.}

[The copy is physically close to his counterpart, ear pressed against a beating heart and a shallowly rising and falling chest, but his eyes are fixed wholly on Cesar.]

You know what?

[Whether Cesar knows or not, he's going to tell him.]

I've realized something. It's not about sex, at all. I mean, it is, but there's so much more to it than just fucking. It's about making people do what I want... whether you're coming... or he's going... I will it.

[He mimics the heartbeat under his breath. Pa-pah. Pa-pah. Pa-pah.]

*There's a lurch in Cesar's gut that confirms what the doppelganger already knows. It's the hold the smaller man has had on him for weeks; It's the excuses Cesar made for him in his head, the burning drinks that helped him ignore what he wanted to, and lusty passion that drew him far enough to cross lines before he'd realized it--he's been dancing like a marionette under his touch this whole time, and he feels that hand now more than ever.*

*He's gotten really messed up, hasn't he?*

*Even now his blood can't decide if it wants to be hot or cold, and instead of righteously angry he's just sick and tangled up. He wants to push the doppelganger off of L, tie him to a chair or pin him to the floor in ways he knows he can manage from experience. What then, though? Will he leave him there? Will the doppelganger talk his way out of it like he talks his way out of everything? Will doing this just create even more openings for this farce of L to torment him, pulling him close and enjoying every reaction like it's some kind of drug?*

*Cesar's hands open and close at his sides, but he doesn't step forward yet.*

["Messed up" is certainly one way to put it, and one that the doppelganger would only be gleeful to accept and elaborate on. He's very proud of the mess he made over those weeks, and of the lives he interrupted so that he could carve his own demented legacy into them.

The real L's eyes half-open; he's not awake, but again, it seems like he's trying to shake the unnaturally heavy sleep he's under. His doppelganger lifts his head, and a hand slides up the sleeping man's chest, then his neck, and then rests against his nose and mouth. Gradually, and almost tenderly, the doppelganger presses down, languidly leaning into the motion, restricting airflow as he casually rides out the vague struggling of someone who might be dreaming of drowning.]

*Hands appear out of nowhere and seize the the man by the shoulders, yanking him back. Cesar doesn't just stop once he's out of immediate reach, but bodily hauls him off the bed, dragging him as far as the handcuff's chain will allow. How is it that L and his copy are the only people he's manhandled like this in years? Blood pounds in his ears, and if he weren't gripping him so tightly he'd be shaking.*

*Both his arms are circled around L's chest like comparative bands of steel. His own chest is pressed against L's back, and in this surge of motion there's no time spent worrying about how 'L' might transform this into something sexual: is the real L okay? Cesar wants to call over to him, but he can't even sign this way. Words bubble up and clamor at his throat, but opening his mouth is like trying to walk on air, and they fall lifeless without a sound.*

*Cesar turns abruptly, pushing L against the desk. He opens a drawer, and then another, searching for tape, rope, paperclips--anything.*

Edited 2015-04-03 06:28 (UTC)

[Whether or not the doppelganger would actually have let it go far enough to endanger L's life is something that'll never be proven; Cesar's acted quickly, quicker than even the doppelganger expected, and he's being hauled away from his squirming and struggling counterpart abruptly. He laughs indulgently as the chain pulls taut, pressing his back flush against Cesar and leaning into the source of the tight grip.]

Ha! That's more like it!

[He continues to laugh as Cesar shoves him against the desk, hard enough to bruise but certainly not enough to trouble the doppelganger. As Cesar goes through the drawers, he reaches out to stroke at his hair, his shoulder, anything he can reach.

The drawers seem a little more lived-in and realistic than the horribly bare and clean room. A pair of scissors, some rubber bands, stationary, a checkbook, a marble chess set, a gold pocketwatch with an inscription in Russian and the year 1923 inscribed on it, a journal written in what reads as complete nonsense but is actually a complicated cipher. The bottom drawer, the one L's doppelganger nudged shut with his foot, contains various papers from doctors' offices and about six prescription pill bottles. One seems to have been opened and tossed back in a hurry, and if the small blue pills aren't instantly recognizable as Xanax, the clearly labeled bottle certainly is.]

I can't help that you make me do bad things, Cesar.

*There's not really any way Cesar can be out of reach, and he's racing through the search in hopes of ending this quickly. He jerks open the drawer with the pills, and then pushes it back closed, finding nothing of use--and then he yanks it back open again halfway through reaching for another drawer, snatching the bottle up.*

*Xanax. Xanax. Cesar's grip on the bottle turns temporarily white-knuckled, and he looks at L on the bed, seeing half-open eyes and that stirring that's not quite coordinated enough to actually be wakeful. Cesar shakes the bottle at the L in his arms, like someone showing a puppy a chewed up shoe--and what, did he expect an apology? He throws the bottle back in the drawer in disgust, gritting his teeth. The sign for 'asshole' is one-handed. Cesar makes use of this fact before switching arms, glancing through the desk's other side's drawers.*

*He finds nothing in the desk that will hold another human being captive. He's alone, with one man that needs protecting and another that's making his skin crawl. What's he going to do?*

*The silence spirals in on itself, and he's completely at a loss. Will he just stand there and hold L's copy until the real one wakes up? Will he tie him up in a blanket, hoping it doesn't just turn into one frustrating game of retying the knots every time the man works himself free--*

*Cesar's gaze sharpens on L, and his mind works through the sight of him very, very carefully. L can't move. L is... out of the picture... He moves back to the desk and pulls that bottom drawer open again, taking out the bottle. Now he actually looks at it, pouring over the label. L's doppelganger is kept in place with one hand between his shoulder blades; he hasn't needed to actually add his weight, yet, and is hoping he won't have to.*

[Even though L's doppel has just acknowledged that he's done something bad, having a bottle shaken in his face seems to have just as much of an effect as showing a puppy a long-forgotten, chewed up shoe. No apology is forthcoming, but a cheerful reassurance is.]

Don't be so mad. I only put twice his normal dose in his coffee. He has so many to take every day that it was easy to swipe those while he was dividing them all up. What matters is that we have this time, Cesar....

[He reiterates his point, chuckling at the gesture. As Cesar reads the pill bottle, which notes that L is to take no more than one per day only as needed for anxiety, presses invitingly against Cesar, rocking his hindquarters suggestively into Cesar's hips.]

We could do it right now. Right here against the desk. It might be a little bit twisted, but you have to admit it's pretty hot.

Edited 2015-04-03 20:00 (UTC)

*Cesar's eyes shoot daggers at him, and in that moment he's not sure who he hates more: the doppelganger, for doing all of this, or himself, for not having the self control to be impassive under the touch.*

*He takes the hand from the man's back but stays where he is. He needs both hands to open the little bottle, but he's unwilling to lean against him to press an elbow to his back. This shouldn't take more than a second... The bottle rattles in his hands, the cap is off, and he's shaking one pill into his hand. Two pills.*

*He puts the bottle down and reaches for the doppelganger.*

[The doppelganger braces both of his palms against the desk's surface as if expecting the other man to take him here and now, but there aren't ensuing hands on him. He peers aside at Cesar's actions.

Well, that's no good. He recoils, narrowing his eyes as Cesar reaches for him.]

I'll bite your fingers off, if you even try it.

*L's sudden change in tact is met with a ghastly curl of lips, and blood sings in Cesar's ears, and no reply would ever capture his sentiment as much as his smile does: he'd like to see him try. It's the smile of a shark with blood in the water, and he pockets one pill and grabs him, pressing the man against the desk in a cruel parody of everything he'd been trying to seduce Cesar into mere moments ago. He's heavier than L. He and his brother had loved wrestling, he knows how to use his weight to his advantage.*

*The hand without the pill grabs his hair, keeping his head steady, and the hand with it goes for the base of his jaws, prying at the fleshy area away from snapping teeth. He doesn't care how much force he uses right now. He's determined to see that L will open his mouth, and Cesar will keep his fingers safe from snapping teeth.*

Edited 2015-04-04 01:08 (UTC)

[The sudden restriction prompts a scrabbling, desperate struggle. L's doppelganger bucks and kicks against Cesar, attempting to stomp on his feet, dig a sharp elbow into his ribs, anything to get away. But Cesar has a size and weight advantage he doesn't, in addition to leverage to keep him bent and pinned.

He curls his shoulders, but when Cesar yanks his hair his head tilts back easily on his scrawny neck with a sharp cry. He clenches his teeth, clawing at Cesar's hand and attempting to tear it away from his face, but his strength is already flagging; his body knows that it's not a match for Cesar's larger and more powerful frame, and as Cesar starts to succeed in pulling his teeth apart, he makes every effort to jerk his head as much as he's able with his limited mobility. If he can bite, he will, and then/I> how will Cesar sign?]

*Each time he pries his jaw open he either has to let go to bring the pill within range, or L jerks his face out of Cesar's grasp. Each time he does that--well, this method isn't working. Cesar leans closer, putting the pill between his lips and bringing his face close to his captive's. It frees his hands to keep both of them on his face...*

*It's the wrong angle. If L were facing him then maybe spitting the pill like a watermelon seed would work, but he's not, and Cesar swipes the pill from this lips, scowling deeply. He presses the heavy point of an elbow into L's back, deciding to try outlasting him. L can't keep this up forever.*

[L isn't particularly strong in either incarnation, but he moves and twists like a pit viper, striking out and squirming and remaining difficult to hold onto no matter how thoroughly he's pinned down. He knows what the Xanax will do to him; he's seen it in person, after all, hell, he's caused it, and Lazarus' lot isn't one he covets for himself. He wants control, after all, and how the hell can he have it when he's lying prone and unconscious and helpless?

He redoubles his savage efforts, recognizing that he is running out of stamina and that if he's going to get away, it has to be now.

The chain moves behind them, but neither are in a position to see what's going on with the other end of it.]

*His hands and arms are bleeding sluggishly from scratches, and a lucky hit catches him in the side unawares. He breaths out sharply, and more of his weight on the doppelganger turns into dead weight. Normally this would be enough, but all L is looking for is escape, not victory. A second strike catches him near his neck, and the back of L's head rams into his nose, and he's realizing that if he doesn't end this soon, he might be knocked aside just long enough to have to start all of this over again.*

*He already has a grip on L's head. Cesar grabs the doppelganger by the back of his collar and slams both down to the desk's surface, grinding the man's face against it. This needs to stop now.*

[The doppelganger gets a second wind when he realizes that he's making headway. He concentrates more of his focus and energy into the parts of him that are sharp and hard, throwing his head back and feeling it connect with cartilage. He could do this, he could get loose.

Then he gags and chokes as his collar is yanked back, and is being violently slammed into the surface of the desk. He reaches blindly for the menorah, lashing out at Cesar with it... but he's being made to release it with a sharp cry as a new pair of hands bends his forward at the wrist, exploiting a known sensitive area.]

Hold him there.

[Lazarus speech is slurred and monotonous, but he's up, beside them, and working to bind his doppelganger's hands behind his back with the length of chain, securing the winding series of figure-8s with the other handcuff, which he is no longer attached to.]

Edited 2015-04-04 04:55 (UTC)

*Cesar's heart skips several beats, but he keeps his hold. Since when was L awake? What does this look like, with Cesar's body pressed against L's back and his hands fisted to grip him still--*

*--It looked like a struggle, apparently, because L is wasting no time restraining him, and Cesar's not going to question it. He pushes himself away to give L room, but it means having even less control over the doppelganger. He compensates by twisting is head back, wrenching at his hair.*

*The second handcuff's lock clicks loudly. Cesar moves forward and is immediately forced to adjust, keeping his body away from L's grasping hands. Is this going to get any easier? He reaches for the copy's chin again, sparing a glance between L and the pill bottle. Does he understand?*

[Since very, very recently. He's dizzy and unsteady on his feet and seems like he's moving through water, but he did manage to get the handcuff off and is now managing to bind his counterpart and at least assist Cesar with the task. The doppelganger wails in panic and pain at the sudden wrench, shuddering in Cesar's grasp and panting hard.

Lazarus rubs at his eyes. He knows how his own medications work and affect him, and it confirms what he had suspected through all of his strange dreams and near-waking interspersed throughout long periods of blackness.

He understands, and he nods. He reaches for the pill bottle, shaking two into his hand without hesitating and staring wanly at Cesar.]

Keep his head from moving.

[Though his doppel glares at him, with Cesar more able to devote his grip to one task, it's a fairly easy matter for L to pinch his nose, forcing him to open his mouth. He jams the pills between his lips and then staggers slightly, pulling the metal folding chair dazedly forward and sinking into it as he leaves Cesar to hold the furious doppel's mouth shut until he's swallowed or the pills have dissolved.]

Edited 2015-04-04 05:41 (UTC)

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