State Your Request

[mansion_master]

The Request Room is waiting, as it always is -- black walls, ceiling, and floor, spotlights, small golden table. On the table is a stack of thick cream-colored cards made of heavy cotton rag paper, a small stand holding a dip pen and black ink (in a red, apple-shaped inkwell), a silver bowl, and one larger placard, covered with elegant script and

Comments

[smallpackaging]

*Sayu enters, and makes her way slowly over to the table. She reads the placard carefully, three times over, just to be sure she gets it, then picks up a card, and writes, carefully;

I'd like you to heal the version of Light Yagami that seems to be from my world, and that was shot in the wrist recently. In exchange, I am willing to give up my memories for as long as you feel would be appropriate.

She's thought a lot about the payment, and about other deals she's heard people make. Memories seems to be a common one, and she's too tired to be inventive. She reads the card over, then walks over to the spotlight and reads it out loud, shakily.

Last but not least, she folds it neatly in half and drops it in the bowl. Her eyes close tight; she's expecting fireworks, explosions, the heavens to move.*

[mansion_master]

*There is a tiny puff of smoke -- an unnaturally bright cobalt color -- and then ornate, spidery bright blue writing appears on the next card in the stack.*

Who do you think 'we' are?

Why do you think we would heal him?

[smallpackaging]

Um, do I talk, or do I write...?

*She asks the room at large, before deciding to play it safe and pick up a pen.

I don't have the faintest idea who you are. The anthropomorphized mansion, maybe? A being powerful enough to bring us all here? God, temporarily at least?

I'm hoping you'll heal him because I- need someone to help me, and you're all I have. I'll do anything you ask in return, I'll help you however I can. Please. I can't imagine why you would because, like I said, I don't even know who you are, so speculating about your motives is really pointless, but I hope you can find it in your heart to do so, or I can offer you something good enough in return.*

[mansion_master]

Again, a small puff of bright blue smoke, and more writing appearing. She was correct to write instead of talking.

We do not need your help.

Sweeten the deal. Memories are standard currency.

Are you willing to take for yourself some of what is being taken from him?

Re: GAH oh god, late reply!!!

[mansion_master]

*Because Light has not placed the card in the bowl, nothing happens. Then, the bowl wobbles a little, making a soft clanking noise, as if to remind him.*

[mansion_master]

*The second the card hits the bowl, dark red smoke begins to pour from it, filling the room's atmosphere. The strange thing is that, apart from a faint scent of roses, the smoke doesn't change the breathability of the air.*

*When it clears, which happens quickly, Light will be able to see writing on the top card, in ornate, spidery script.*

Are you sure about this?

n. this is late.

[siafukira]

[Light's seen this room before - the table, the spotlight, the way the walls and floor reflect every smallest sound. It strikes him as uncanny - or no. Overly dramatic. That's the term he wants. A stage set.

At the table, he stands in the spotlight, casts a thin glance over the placard, then takes one of the heavy cards from the stack and turns it over and over. Thinking about writing something, maybe? His eyes and lips pinch inward, annoyed; the room irks him merely by existing. He's got questions he wants answered, badly, but - not here, and not today.

Replacing the card on the stack, he turns to leave. Quiet, brisk footsteps echo behind him. He'll be back.]