IC Voicemail

[evowhisperer]

 *There's nothing but a long silence after the ringing stops. If the caller's been looking at their screen, there are plain black-and-white letters on display:*

Please leave a message after the beep.

*Beep.*

Comments

[dead_black_eyes]

[L glances up, then down again quickly as soon as he's registered and read the signs. He doesn't know if he's being humored or if Cesar's being wholly sincere; what he does know is that the man has been significantly shaken and that anything he says is something he might want to take back later.

He reaches toward Cesar's face, gently nudging the hand holding the washcloth against his nose squinting as he looks for injuries he can spread Neosporin on.]

Thank you for saying that, in spite of everything. For what it's worth, I agree.

[evowhisperer]

*He lowers the cloth, and L can see that he's pulling his mouth up into a short, tight grin.*

*His nose is an angry pink from the forming bruise, but the only sign of blood is the steady trickle of blood from his nostrils. It's slow enough that it takes a few seconds to reach his lips, and by the time it passes them Cesar is blotting it away with the cloth.*

*His hands lower briefly.* {I don't think it's broken. Just bleeding.}

[dead_black_eyes]

[L can't quite quell a wince when he sees Cesar's nose. The other man is handsome and anything interrupting the easy symmetry of his features is a bit jarring. He nevertheless returns the grin with a smaller, paler smile. Cesar's nose is still bleeding; maybe it's better to focus on his hand, and he does so after the signs and their dual meanings are revealed.

He laughs, a strained, unexpected sound.]

Thank goodness it'll heal.

[He's not looking forward to going and finding his doppelganger, who is, by this point judging from the dose and what L knows all to well it'll do to him, lying prone somewhere. They have time; for now, he likes this. It feels like the beginning of healing, and that extends, of course, to far more than a nose.]

[evowhisperer]

*Cesar's smile is wan and half-obscured, but it's there.*

*The first-aid kit is across the room, and Cesar looks down at his hands, trying to gauge the scratch's bleeding. It doesn't look like anything that will need gauze; mere bandaids should do the trick, even of a few of them will need several in a row.*

*He doesn't stand to look for them, waiting for L to finish his own ministrations. He's still deeply hurt by this whole fiasco in ways he's not bringing to the surface, but L's attention is helping in ways that go far beyond disinfectant on bleeding cuts: Lazarus is paying attention to him. Not his dick, not any physical part of him that might lead to sex later... Cesar tells himself that he just doesn't want to make Lazarus feel unneeded, but the truth of the matter is he's soaking up the attention like a parched plant.*

[dead_black_eyes]

[For most of his life, Lazarus has been unneeded. Chess prodigies are, in the grand scheme of things, superfluous, a curiosity that intrigues a niche crowd in a modern world, but is of little practical use elsewhere. A tyrannical, unscrupulous uncle had reminded him of it often enough, the fact that he was only anyone because he knew how to dance on black and white squares, and humanity was composed of more ambiguous shades of grey that denied a chessmaster any genuine access.

This is more than access, it's an invitation to go above and beyond and prove that he can move between those shadows he'd been warned away from as a child. He can be attentive, he can care, and he can put the needs of someone else first, even if this ranks up there among the very strangest days of his life. Besides, doesn't he owe Cesar for his monstrous doppelganger dragging him into this mess?]

Um... sit still, please. I'm going to get the bandages, now that you're all cleaned up...

[He says so after he's finished his careful, meticulous cleaning. Something he's always been good at, taking contaminated or sullied things and making them pure again. He stands and fetches the kit, bringing it back and starting to pick through and look for the best options to smear with neosporin.]

[evowhisperer]

*Cesar is tilting his hands to try to keep the worst of the scratching from bleeding another trail down his hand so quickly. That's why when L brings the box back and begins to rummage, he doesn't immediately help.*

*He does eventually stretch out a single pinky, lifting the edge of a box of cold medicine, only to drop it back down when he realized the bandaid box beneath it was for tiny punctures, not for anything substantial.*

*He settles back down to wait, apparently content to not fight for involvement in this.*

[dead_black_eyes]

[L glances up when he notices Cesar's fingers creeping toward the box to poke ineffectually at its contents. He offers him the damp cloth he'd used to clean his injuries.]

Don't trouble yourself. I've got this.

[He selects several larger bandaids, holding them at several angles to determine the best and most efficient way to cover the scratches. He uncaps the neosporin, putting a generous amount of the ointment on the soft, cottony part of the first bandait before carefully pressing it onto Cesar's hand. Silently, he starts on the second one.]

[evowhisperer]

*He takes the cloth and holds his hands with it, and it seems to be enough. The rest of L's search is spent in quiet waiting.*

*So will the bandaging process itself, it seems: The first bandaid is pressed carefully across the edges of the worst scratch, and the next few have Cesar narrowing his eyes, but he doesn't jerk, or do much of anything besides frown darkly.*

*Lazarus finishes one hand. Cesar flexes the fingers carefully against the tug of tape and pain. He can't bend his hand completely in a certain direction, but it's just as well, and he leaves the injury alone to heal.*

[dead_black_eyes]

[Careful though it is, it's something of a bang-up job and Cesar won't have fantastic mobility without tugging some of the adhesive strips loose. That being said, L's been meticulous and gentle, and it's probably as good as it could have been without hospital-grade supplies.]

I need to figure out what I'm going to do with him, now. I know what I want to do, but... I have to try to be better than him in at least that way.

[evowhisperer]

{Let him leave.}

*The signs are restricted, but even wit this the meaning is clear.*

{Announce his existence, find some way to distinguish the two of you. He's doing things that could get him arrested sooner or later.}

{Let him tie his own noose, and he won't be your problem for much longer.}

[dead_black_eyes]

[He has to glance away for a second, but even though he tries earnestly, there's no real way to hide how conflicted he is about it. He brushes aside his hair to indicate a small, new tattoo, a delicate stem with dark green leaves just under his ear.]

Differentiation isn't the problem, so much. I just worry about what he'll do the world, given the chance. I'd rather I took the damage, but... I recognize that the world might be better at taking care of itself.

[evowhisperer]

*Cesar glances at his hands, and thinks of the consuming press of lips and scent of his hair, and he finds that he can't be as staunchly laissez faire as he wishes he were. Is he really going to ignore the way he's worrying about the copy, even now? Even if he concentrates on the image of him smothering a paralyzed Lazarus, he can't help but wonder at the back of his mind if the Xanax didn't make him pass out at the top of a staircase. He's not in pain somewhere, needing the help of anyone who can find it in themselves to not want him dead, is he?*

{Warn your friends. Protect yourself first, or you won't be able to protect them.}

*He feels conflicted. It occurs to him that as clear as he thinks his expression is right now, Lazarus might not even be able to tell. Maybe that makes things simpler in the end? He knows it's good advice.*

[dead_black_eyes]

[Lazarus' dark eyes stare at the lines and riddles on Cesar's face; he's attentive and he cares, but Cesar's correct in assuming that he's incapable of comprehending much of what he's seeing. It's a type of innocence, a shield, and a handicap; it gives Cesar an edge for when he needs to hide from the intense focus that catches nearly everything else.]

...you're right, of course. I'll let him go, and update security again. Everyone I know will be made aware of his deeds and tendencies so they can protect themselves accordingly.

[evowhisperer]

*Cesar gives him a small (equally unreadable) smile, nods, and doesn't pull his hand away for another quick round of signs. The last bandaid is stretched over the edge of a cut, and he touches its surface, smoothing it.*

*Now he signs.* {For what it's worth, I've considered killing my own doppelganger, too.}

[dead_black_eyes]

[That startles a laugh out of Lazarus.]

Good to know I'm not alone, I suppose. They bring out the worst in some pretty decent men, don't they?

[evowhisperer]

{Yes.} *Cesar doesn't consider himself a decent man, and his smile is strained.* {They do.}

*His eyes wander until they find a clock on the wall.* {Do you need me to help you find wherever your twin collapsed before I go?}

[dead_black_eyes]

"Thank you. I would like that. He really can't have gotten far, but I guess now the point is to let that happen."

He picks himself up, going to the sink and bending over to put his face under the tap. He's still groggy and thinks that drinking some water will help.

[evowhisperer]

*Cesar waits until Lazarus can see him again.*

{We could also let him escape on his own.}

[dead_black_eyes]

[Lazarus casts his gaze downward for a second following Cesar's suggestion.]

I take it you mean that we should let him believe that he's outfoxing us and escaping, rather than inform him he's being released?

[evowhisperer]

*Some hesitation--then, a nod.*

[dead_black_eyes]

[Lazarus considers it, then nods firmly.]

We'll do that then. If you could help me get him in a chair, we could tie him up and leave one of the major knots intentionally flawed. He'll be gone before morning.

[evowhisperer]

*Another nod, this one firmer. It's something he can do in the same act of leaving the school altogether: once he's done helping Lazarus move the other man's dead weight, he can go.*


{Rope?}

[dead_black_eyes]

There's one in the service closet down the hall. Fortunately, it's on the way to where I think he collapsed.

[Lazarus starts that way, walking straighter and with better purpose as he continues to make his way out of the drugged haze.]