I don't know what to do, or where I lost my way

[fightsfaithless]

[Teru doesn't know where he is. This is bad, it's terrifying, but it's not the worst thing, which is that he doesn't know how he got to wherever this is. He knows exactly where he ought to be - in Kamchatka, huddled inside a crowded tent among dozens of other people with nothing to do now that the fields are frozen. And he was there, just a few

Comments

[without_fanfare]

She walks with a firm, even pace, a confident stride that she would be reluctant to break for anything other than a death-- or a new arrival. He looks lost, not in good shape at all.

So her walk slows as she gets closer.

"Pardon me."

[fightsfaithless]

[The first thing he registers is her gait - human, still alive, not one of them. That's good (isn't it? A treacherous part of his mind thinks at least he'd know what to do if one of them had appeared, but don't think that. Don't ever invite them.)

He assumes she's Russian until she speaks, one of the guards, though she's still too well dressed and too healthy. But - American? That doesn't make sense. Rumours of conspiracies race through his head - did they bring me here for something? Some experiment? Is it because I'm -He hasn't lowered the crowbar, clinging to it even tighter, if such a thing's possible. This is unwise politically, but instinctive, primal - he needs it. It's what lets him survive

[without_fanfare]

The crowbar does make her pause, makes her stop a good distance away. She could fight it off, yes, but none the less. Violence isn't her first choice.

"Could you put that down, please. I have no reason to hurt you."

A statement and trying to talk to him with logic-- this is Mikami, Mikami should respond, somewhat. Whatever put him in this state wasn't the warehouse, no, he would be... more unstable.

Halle holds up empty hands, showing she is unarmed.
"I am not going to do anything. Where ever you where, you are not there anymore. Whatever you were going to use that crowbar against is not here-- could you tell me what it is for?"

Another quick look, trying to help herself in calming the man down.

"Halle. Hal, if you would like something more informal."

She smiles. Once he's calm, she will be able to make it back to Mello and give him a head's-up.

[fightsfaithless]

Teru can't move, at first, except to blink incredulously at her. The tone she's using on him is familiar enough (Mikami-san, go inside. There's nothing more to be done tonight. You need to rest) but the words are impossible, insane. She has to know what he needs it for. There's no one left in the world who wouldn't.

Unless she is insane, of course. One of them must be, and it's common enough for people to snap that way, into complete denial. This could be some kind of psychiatric facility - but Teru isn't mad. He can't be. He isn't.

He lowers the crowbar, slowly, not relaxing his grip at all. And now it's possible at least to get words out, even though they're barely above a whisper and his throat aches from lack of use. An explanation, for the poor deluded woman. She needs to know.

"Siafu," he tells her, and then he realises too late that a foreigner wouldn't know the term, and rephrases. "Zombies?"

[faithinthefire]

[The layers, the glasses (in his world, you make what you have last, or you go without), the crowbar, and, most of all, the trapped look, the echo of the one Mello knows he wore when he first got here: they all say refugee. He holds up his hands to show he's unarmed, and greets the unfamiliar man in Russian.]

You're not in any danger here.

[Not in the hall, anyway.]

[fightsfaithless]

[And everything about this man says military, to Teru. It's almost a relief to see one of them here - whatever it is they want with him, at least now he can hope that all this will make sense. That he's here for a reason, other than that he's fallen into madness.

He can't let go of the crowbar, but he lowers it, makes his posture and expression go neutral and his mind blank. It's an instinct, by now, when he's drawn the guards' attention for whatever reason - don't provoke them. Don't give them any reason to do anything, to assert power over you. There's still a part of him left that screams at that, but it's getting quieter, every day.

(And for most people, a reaction like this would be self-preservation. For Teru it's not, quite. He's more afraid of hating than being hurt, the damage he could do...)]

...sir.

[That one's a scripted response, easy. The words for where am I, what's happening, how can there not be any danger? - he can't find those yet.]

[faithinthefire]

[If he had any doubt this man was from his world, it's gone now.]

Not here. We're a long way from Kamchatka.

[Much like Matt did when Mello first arrived, he takes a step back and spreads his arms slightly, as if to say: See? He's filled out to about the usual weight for a version of Mello, and though his outfit is still a rather severe dark grey, it's clean and unpatched.]

I'm called Mikhail.

[fightsfaithless]

[Teru looks him up and down, wary still, taking this in or trying to. A long way, oh yes. He's suddenly very aware of his own clothes, and the knots in his hair.]

...Mikami Teru.

[That's another automatic response, five syllables that don't have to mean anything, as long as he knows when to make them. The next thing takes more effort, but he manages to form the word anyway, after a moment's quiet struggle.]

Where...?

[firm_detective]

*L ambles down the hall, not too slowly, but with an aimless air that's deceptive. He carries a small, heavy white ceramic bowl filled with raspberries, and has just popped three into his mouth.*

*Mikami is not the first ragged-looking new arrival who L has met, and by this point, it isn't difficult to suspect what his situation might have been. Still, jumping to conclusions is never ideal.*

*Seeing the crowbar, he elects not to come too close.*

It would be a shame if you injured someone with that.

*His tone is easy and conversational, but his gaze is locked on Mikami; if things go as badly as they might, he is prepared.*

[fightsfaithless]

[Teru barely registers the words, and couldn't make sense of them if he did - killing or even just hurting a living person wouldn't be a shame, it would be a catastrophe, and he never would. His own eyes are fixed on the bowl of raspberries, and his hands, for the first time in years, are shaking. Of all the things he can't possibly be seeing, this is the one that lets him know he must have snapped, irrevocably. There hasn't been fresh fruit in (forever) six years, and there are so many of them...

There's the tiniest of sounds in the back of his throat, a stifled whimper. I'm dead, or I'm mad. This isn't happening.]

[firm_detective]

*L doesn't move any closer; Mikami is armed, and a visual scan suggests instability. Then, there's the soft noise he makes in lieu of speech.*

Please set down your weapon. No one will hurt you here.

*This is not, strictly speaking, the truth, but it's true enough for the moment. He pops a few more berries into his mouth. Rather than suggest that Mikami might be running from the living dead, when it's possible that there's another story entirely, he waits to learn more from the source.*

I would offer you some raspberries, but I will admit that I'm not keen to be bludgeoned.

[fightsfaithless]

[This time he complies, in a way. Not because the idea of putting down his weapon makes any more sense to him, but because his arms have just gone limp. He's still managing to hang on to it, but only loosely, by his side. Grey washes across his vision. There shouldn't be a wall behind him, but there is, and horrifying though it may be it suddenly has the task of holding him up.

If he faints, they'll take him to the hospital tents again, won't they? He hates it there, but maybe this would stop. Maybe he's only overworked himself again and needs to rest.]