Night 52: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1

[poorexample]

[From here.]While it was his first time heading up the stairs, Castiel felt no trepidation. Even if he was alone and it was deathly quiet, he was used to unsettling situations and saw no reason to slow his march upward. Though at the sound of footsteps, he did glance over his shoulder for a split second, to see another patient who was taking the

Comments

[herr_inspektor]

[from here]

There was no way he could deny that their shadows were the target tonight, at any rate. Tying it to what he'd heard from Jill wasn't too difficult either; it was a enough simplistic metaphor for Lunge to unravel, after all, literal 'shadows' of the past taking on a life of their own. Shadows are such easy things to forget. They're behind you- they've happened, they're in the past. You did what you had to do. He chose to stop that thought there. It's hard to ignore a shadow when you're forced to look at it. But this isn't just about looking, is it, Landel? You want to punish. Shadows can't hurt unless...L. He'd seen the twitches, too, the flickering, he'd seen it in his face. Did that mean that his shadow would be affected as well? Looking back at Taylor's shadow it seemed to be perfectly normal, but the fact that the man had felt the need to test it once they were out implied that he'd seen something wrong- his and L's shadows, perhaps

[toxicspiderman]

S.T. had planned to point out the computer in the seminar room. A burst of full automatic gunfire cut that short, and he followed Lunge back to the stairwell

[herr_inspektor]

Hmm. Not exactly as he would have put it, but Lunge managed a grim smile of appreciation nonetheless. That was a fair description of what he was looking at, yes. "I've noticed it behaving strangely since the lights came on earlier, with the Head Doctor's first message- it's hard to cast a shadow without light, I suppose," he added. He paused. "Interesting, isn't it? That the next 'stage' as it were would come about with Jill's broadcast." Making direct accusations at this point was pointless, but... well. It was all too convenient for his liking. Was she the helpless victim, forced to stand by and watch? Was she coerced into activating something? Or was she a willing helper

[quarter_english]

[From here.]

As he moved into the stairwell, struggling a little with the weight of the door, L caught Lunge's last statement. The shadows-- The space felt safer than the open hall, and he looked down at the floor. Taylor seemed to be poking at Lunge's shadow, which was wavering and swirling, like L's own.

"You've been experimenting?" The question was terse. "I've been seeing it since I left my room, and on yours"--he glanced at Lunge--"since around the time Howell produced that creature. Initially, I thought it was some kind of side effect of the procedure." He raised his hand to brush his fingertips against the bandage that was wrapped around his head. "What have you learned?"

At that point, the intercom crackled to life again. L lifted the hand that had been at his temple into the air, as if to silence everyone, giving Landel's words as much of his attention as he could afford to pay to them.

[herr_inspektor]

[changing thread order with permission!]

A third shadow fell across the stairwell and Lunge looked up almost instantly. L. In one piece, so far as he could tell, even if his expression was a mask of tension, which meant he could ignore that little twinge of discomfort he'd felt at leaving an injured man with a magician and his pet dragon. But the man's appearance and the intercom firing up for a third round came concurrently, so he chose to focus on the Head Doctor before answering.

And for one moment, for barely a wisp of a second as he recorded the latest message, perhaps his eyes might have glossed over tellingly, or his mouth tightened just a touch, or his brow barely contracted. Then the tension lapsed back into cool concentration, just enough of a cover that he could pretend he wasn't trying to fool himself as well. Touche, Martin Landel. Fifty points. Well-targeted. But it's going to take more than that. Which it looked like Landel was trying for- or, rather, sounded like. First there came the electrical hum, then silence,

[toxicspiderman]

He'd said it, if only to himself this time.  Everyone was a hypocrite.  Even the bubble baby that died within a week -- everyone.  It was the modern environmental economist's Original Sin.  Had, somehow, Sangamon Taylor balanced the books?  Racked up enough black marks (in the financial sense of the word) to put his nose above water in an ever-rising tide of hamburgers and unbiodegradable, unrecyclable Hefty bags.  Fucking scary thought

[quarter_english]

As Landel spoke, L's expression shifted from weary to irritated

[herr_inspektor]

Inspector Lunge had not, before arriving in the Institute, ever expected to be standing in a hallway locking eyes with himself. That this was likely one of the more obvious cards Landel could have played didn't seem to matter particularly now. The shadow version of himself didn't say anything, either, and it took him a moment to realise that he was being sized up. Studied. And then he had to ask, just what had he managed to give away already? He hadn't even thought to control his reaction, for goodness' sake. Immediately he rearranged his expression into something more neutral, as though the damage hadn't already been done- just in time for a roll of tape to scythe clean through the shadow's face with barely a ripple.

It was just enough to break the spell of eye contact. Lunge blinked once then turned sharply to the side, back towards the sound of L's voice. Or rather, Ls' voices, as he soon discovered: one bandaged, slumped and carrying a vague sense of resignation, the other only just solid and wearing scorn like a medal of honour

[quarter_english]

"Maybe." He dragged the word out just enough to demonstrate his doubt. "It's a ridiculous trick--more annoying than anything. I'm not sure what the point is, but it seems like it could go on for a while

[herr_inspektor]

At first, it wasn't clear just how much of L's response was a facade, with that flat, outright bored tone that could easily have been forced. His shadow's response cleared that up, at least- it looked put out, as though its counterpart had ruined the punchline already. It wasn't long before it thought up the next subject in its routine (one that, Lunge didn't doubt, wouldn't be put off so easily- if the shadow was anything like L himself, it wouldn't give up without a fight). Death.

Lunge didn't flinch- not externally, at least. Internally... well. Dissection eased the shock value after a moment or two. In fact, kneejerk reaction aside, there was something fascinating in it. Thirteen deaths within the police alone, not including the presumably-greater number of victims up to that point, was easily large enough to warrant interest: was this the 'Kira case' the man had mentioned as from his home world? The security levels in the base (reconstruction of a base) they'd found themselves in had certainly indicated an enormous case. And

[toxicspiderman]

When intellectuals got self-deprecating, it was usually complete bullshit.  An elaborate competitive dance, like a peacock mating ritual with pseudo insults for feathers.  This one felt a little more honest, courtesy of Martin Landel, but it didn't make it less boring, even in quadraphony.

Ryuuzaki's evil twin finished the opening posturing first, and started in with a list of names and dates.  Patronizing little bastard.  Claiming responsibility for the deaths of what -- coworkers?  Grown men and women who had free will,  though perhaps no sense of self-preservation.  Sangamon Taylor was a survivor.  And if he took a bullet to the brain (or carcinogenic time bomb to the nucleotides), he wanted it to go down as his own fucking fault.

DUCK, DUCK SQUEEZER
NOTED ENVIRONMENTAL ACTIVIST KILLED IN FREAK BANNER ACCIDENTBesides, the list was anecdotal bullshit, not a statistically significant sample.  So the guy had crap luck in co-workers.  Big deal.  It didn't bother S.T., and neither did the accusation of being insensitive.  The