badfic_manor | [Audio]

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[Light is sitting cross-legged on his bed, his expression alternates between fury and hopelessness at a book that he has unknowingly opened upside down in his lap. The endless stream of bickering coming through the Blackberry is irritating the hell out of him. Clearly the investigation lacked leadership, because from the sound of it, all of the self congratulatory morons were running around like headless chickens. But even so, this is a transient distraction that he clings on to, because otherwise he would be forced to think about how stupidly helpless he felt at the moment. The truth is, Light cannot bring himself to contribute to this investigation; being unable to read has left him feeling as though he is without a right arm.
When yet another message comes through the network, he grabs his own Blackberry and hisses angrily.]

Either try for some goddamn unity or be quiet.

[There is an audible sigh, before the feed switches off.]

[[ooc: Basically Light is illiterate until Sunday. Stick poke if you want to. Figured it'd be a relief from all the srs bsns. Good luck trying to get him to admit that he can't read if you do.]]

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[Jack's slurred speech comes through the speakers.]

Been trying that, mate. Seems like not a few but several have the same mindset as you though factions come between them like oil and vinegar. Too bad there is no salad to mix, eh? Otherwise it would be a rather delicious portion to this chaos in order to make it work to our advantage.

And you say not a one chooses to be leader? [A smack to his forehead.] It is no wonder that everything's marred and torn. No unity means no compromises and no compromises mean no stability. Odd coming from a pirate, eh?

[There is a loud noise as Light uses more force than necessary to slam the covers of the book together.]

I won't lie, it is odd. Aren't pirates understood to be fond of drinking and plundering? ...Well I suppose you've successfully fulfilled that first part.

True and there is no denying my irreparable reputation.

[Jack mentions with pride...somewhat.]

Yet, there is nothing to plunder here worth plundering without someone to notice something missing. Ah, but with the Author's generous nature of providing locations of said plundering it is unlikely that I would pass that up, eh?

Heh. Given how incredibly competent these so-called detectives are, you're more than likely to get away with it.

And a slow chase they pursue. Not that I mind a bit of incompetence now and again though I do like a challenge, eh? Poor ol' Jack's beginning to feel a bit unwanted with no challenge and no one worthy to stand up and take me on the game.

Oh, I'm sure. Challenges are the only reason games are ever worth playing. But what, pray tell, is the nature of your game?

Pirate.

[There's a grin in there.]

[Light would have rolled his eyes at this, scoffed, or at the very least falsified an excuse to end the conversation, but had he done that he would have been forced to dwell on his own inadequacies.]

And your crew?

Not here. Though I am in the process of accruing such people once my ship is built.

[He's used to that. He's not really all that surprised that people would ask.]

Ah.. I see. Where exactly do you plan on setting sail to once it is completed? [Assuming you can actually escape this place.]

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You know, thank you.

I feel rather bad for the number of people who are keeping quiet that have to listen to this.

The riot is playing straight into the murderer's hands. Mind you, I don't approve of how the investigation is being handled from an purely infrastructure based perspective either, Hakuba-san.

Cuts both ways; the people involved are, for the most part, harder to make disappear as long as they're making themselves loud and visible. That crowd out there around the bonfire? As long as they stick together, they're not targets. The noise makes it harder for someone in the hallways to hear anything, depending on how much noise the murderer makes to begin with.

You'll have to forgive us for not publicizing our work; in my past experience, the more information about progress is made public on a serial killer investigation, the more information is given to the killer to avoid being caught and keep killing people, and the more dead bodies you end up with, assuming you ever catch the killer at all. I'm surprised you wouldn't know already what happens when you disclose too much information on a case like this, after associating with the police so closely, and if you're aware of everything the people involved have been doing, then I applaud your newfound psychic powers.

On the other hand, you could broadcast false information, and the killer could become careless and thus trap himself. But really, that wasn't what I was driving at. It hardly takes a psychic to realize that the number of likely suspects is extremely low. After all how many people here actually satisfy the requirement of knowing L? Or more specifically, how many people here know L well enough to reproduce his speech patterns?

My guess is that you already know who the killer is. No special powers necessary.

[Having worked out where Light's room was (thanks to the big shiny plaque in place) he knocks. Though.. he has a theory, he has a cookie with him. One of his x-rated looking ones. There's something written on it. 'Eat this and you're my bitch forever'.]

Hey Light, can I come in or ya wanna stay wallowing in your sea of emo?

[Light frowns in annoyance. It was a stupid predicament in which he couldn't actually glare at Wallace or else he would have to discuss the reasons for his... rightful rage, thank you very much. He pauses before turning the door knob.]

Sure. But first, how do I know you aren't the murderer?

[Not that Light actually believed Wallace was the freak responsible for the deaths... More than anything, he's curious to see what response Wallace would come up with.]

Edited 2011-01-28 23:20 (UTC)

[Wallace's shoulders slump and he lets out the most exasperated groan sigh to date. Managing to reply in a complete deadpan.]

Oh dang, Light. You foiled me. I've been killing people here senselessly with my sheer power of gay because I'm so fucking bored. Congratulations, you win a cookie.

Of course I'm not the fucking murderer you douchebag.

[The response makes Light twitch. The door opens slowly, and he has a passive-aggressive smile on his face.]

Relax, I didn't think you were. Still, security measures are important. I wouldn't have been offended if you had asked the same of me. Come in.

[Wallace cocks a grin, oh he sees that bullshit smile and enjoys it.]

Yeah well, the whole trust no one crap is just making people antsy. If you were gonna kill me you'd have done it by now.

Besides, I saved you a cookie.

[Hello gratuitously iced peen cookie, complete with pubes and spattered with icing semen.]

You like it?

E...eh?

[His eyes dart from the cookie, to Wallace and back to the cookie. Wallace wanted to know how Light felt about that? That being a penis shaped cookie. Light is quite literally lost for words at the absurdity, and, no, he knows this is not a dream because he takes a quick glance at the bookshelf, and he still cannot read.]

.... I suppose I can acknowledge the considerable effort that went into making it.

[Wallace chuckles and pats his shoulder, setting the plate down on the desk.]

Just be glad I didn't say it was an 'artist's impression' of yours, guy. I've been thinking about making more to lighten the mood around here you know? Everyone could do with thinking about something other than you could die within the next whenever. Just working out when the right time is..

Anyway, it won't kill you, it's just a dumb shape. But, the real question will you savour it lovingly knowing I poured my heart and soul into it?

[Artist's impression...? Light shoots Wallace an incredulous look, though by now it isn't an infrequent sight. Glancing at the cookie again, he realizes there is a spatter of icing on the cookie this time non suggestive of semen, that makes Light sigh in frustration. Is everyone determined to make me feel completely idiotic?]

If you're suggesting that I handle this cookie as if your heart and soul are really in this, wouldn't it be much more romantic if I simply kept it forever and ever in memory of you?

[Wallace snorts and shakes his head.]

Oh honey, a love that's not devoured on sight is a wasted love. Especially if it's presented in cookie form. Shown any other way, then yeah, no eating-- like that.

But hey! To not eat it would be like turning your nose up at me. And that's not cool.

[He puts on a mock tone of hurt, but very obviously mocking. The fact he didn't outright say I'm not eating that because I don't want to be your bitch, cinched his suspicions.]

Assuming of course, that I care if your feelings are hurt.

[The words come out a little harsher than Light intends. In any other circumstance, Light would have just eaten the damn cookie to get the exchange over with, but the mystery words taunting him in their high fructose corn syrup glory, make him hesitate. Light realizes his pride is probably unwarranted, but then again, considering Walace's eccentricities, who knew what the icing said? ..Light certainly didn't. His shoulders droop, as he sighs once again. It was probably his name.]

...That was unnecessary. I apologize.