October Test Drive Meme!

[reddosmod]

OCTOBER 2022 TDM

Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: A snowy, rocky beach in winter. ]
[Image Two: Bowls of mushroom soup and bread. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Dali painting of the moon as a city]
[Image Two: Twisted, warped cityscape]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Monster choking a sleeping person to death]
[Image Two: Death hovering over a sleeping person]

BONUS PROMPT
[Image One: Liminal Space image of a nondescript room with strange ledges]
[Image Two: Cenobite woman with borg-like attachments to her face]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

STANDARD ARRIVAL

WHEN: First Week of NOvember
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

---

You're one of the lucky ones. Your journey is smooth sailing and you wind up exactly where you're supposed to: on the Farther Shores. You grow out of your squid body without a hitch, either with the help of another Sleeper or one of the Wakers, and you get to discover this new world. All new Sleepers might take some time to find their bearings. It might be tricky to remember how to use your body parts the way you're supposed to. You might stumble around the beach or forget how to talk - but don't worry! It'll come back to you sooner or later.

Hopefully, you've found something to wear, either in your Welcoming Bag or otherwise, and can start familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. Maybe you help some other squids out on the beach. Waking up sucks! You feel for the little guys. And hey, maybe you're hoping one of those squids is a good friend...Stranger things have happened.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
This is not the greatest month to wash up on the Farther Shores. It's November and you'll pretty much immediately hate it! The waters are frigid but not quite frozen yet, but that won't make your arrival any less uncomfortable. Thankfully the Boardwalk seems well-stocked with heavy blankets and furs to give to newly awakened Sleepers. Barrels of hot chocolate and hot alcoholic cider are readily available to warm people up. There are several stalls selling hearty soups willed with mushrooms, potatoes, beans, and other filling components.

Fresh baked bread and pastries are sold on wax paper. Enjoy a steaming cinnamon roll or croissant or just your standard bread and butter. Many bakers have set up temporary stoves and seem to invite teaching Sleepers how to cook and prepare bread and pastries. Maybe knead some dough, learn some tricks of the trade. If you help out ab baker, they might even thank you with a sack of flour or other ingredients for bread!

Like last year, as the Moon shifts to Bone, whispers and hushed talk begins anew among the Trenchies about The Tower. There are whispers that something feels wrong. "You know Trench is his body, right?" one might say. "But look at what's been happening. Is everything alright?" There is nervousness, agitation. Trenchies can't seem to put a finger on it. One of the old fishermen mutters under his or her breath if overheard in this time. "Long time since we tried to leave the Tower's shield. Hope didn't bring anything back from out there. World's a strange place."

None of them seem to have anything specific to add. They just seem nervous for some reason.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

IMAGE OF THE SELF

WHEN: Halloween through all November
WHERE: All of Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Distorted Reality, horrifying cityscape images, mounting paranoia, displacement

---

"They say that Trench is the body of the Tower." It is a saying so often repeated during the Bone Moon season that it becomes more of a mantra. Whether or not it is actually true remains a hotly contested debate between Arcane Scholars and Disciples, one of the few times that neither side fully agrees even with themselves. Yet, if it is true, what happens if the person whose body serves as a city begins to have an identity crisis of sorts? That certainly seems to be the case this month.

At random times, it just happens. You're walking from one place to another with your friend. You just stepped out of a lantern network teleportation circle. You open a door. Suddenly, everything is just wrong. It feels like you are in a surrealist's nightmare. Walls appear to be bleeding concrete in all directions. Stairwells twist impossibly, as if M. C. Escher himself were the architect. The pathway to where you intended to go warps and transforms itself into a perilous, twisted monstrosity that you have to navigate. Worse? The way you got here is just gone behind you, leaving you only the path forward.

Navigating this isn't impossible, but you will definitely need help. It might be that one has to stand on another's shoulders to get over an obstacle and then help them up. Maybe someone very small has to crawl into an opening to reach the door handle so the way through can be found. It varies, and the effect lasts only as long as it takes to get where you're going, but while you're here the reality continues to shift and some of these twistings could easily crush you! Don't tarry too long!

NOTE: The physical danger here is from environmental hazards. Feel free to choose any you like, but they will all return to normal when your character reaches their intended destination. Trenchies know nothing about this, though if one asks one of the former wastes, they will ward themselves as if against evil. They know something, but they dare not speak and will whisper hurriedly that the sleeper had best not talk too openly about this. "Best not to draw attention right now."

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP

WHEN: Last Week of October through the first week of November
WHERE: At Home, in your bed
CONTENT WARNINGS: Severe Insomnia, Sleep Deprivation, Deprivation induced hallucinations and mood swings

---

Something is clawing at your mind from the moment that the first signs of the cold coming. You can't put your finger on it, but even as you see the people of Trench preparing for the next month's arrival of sleepers, you can see they feel it too. Something claws at the mind and for a few people in Trench, this becomes a very literal problem. The thoughts are so overwhelming that you can't manage to find a good night's sleep. This problem is especially prominent for new Sleepers, who seem prone to arriving with terrible bouts of unexplainable insomnia.

That sounds simple enough to deal with, right? Perhaps some sort of sleep aid, or working oneself to exhaustion, and you can power through it, right? No. Nothing seems to work at first. Searches for a monster are futile. Warding and incense seem utterly ineffective, and no matter how hard you try, night after night you cannot sleep. You are terrified of falling asleep. If you fall asleep, you may never wake up! Even characters who do not fear a mortal death feel themselves compelled by this, and the longer that they do not sleep the more corruption risks them at its door. A night or two missed is one thing, but eventually irascibility sets in. Hallucinations may eventually start to crop up. The body needs REM sleep. It needs dreams, yet the horror that threatens the person will not allow them to sleep, for fear that it will come for them while they sleep. What 'it' is, they do not know.

There is only one solution. For those who already spend time with others? This is a simple thing, but they must still agree to do it. You can solve this curse only if you do not sleep alone. Another must stay awake for the vigil through the whole night. Simple enough given their insomnia, but they will be assailed by their own horrific lack of slumber. Only, after you have had a good night's sleep, be sure to care for the other who was so kind to you. Why? Because anyone so unkind as to not help their erstwhile companion sleep after they have finally gotten rest will find out that those fears were not unfounded and the next time they sleep, they really do not wake up!

Death, in this rare case, comes in the form of a heart attack. Its source is unknown, and all that the sleeper will remember is the worst nightmare of their life as they lay in bed, dying in soundless screams. So, be sure to take care of each other, sleepers!

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

THE VEINS OF THE TOWER

WHEN: November 1st (And only November 1st)
WHERE: Beginning anywhere, ending in A Nightmarish Place
CONTENT WARNINGS: Liminal Space, Disorientation, Hints of horrible monsters, Possible Death, Insane Zealotry, Mutilated Bodies

---

Rumors have lingered since the first encounters two months ago of a 'space between spaces' that people could accidentally fall into that this occurrence has not been entirely limited to the month it first happened in. Every once in a while, on unusual days, it has happened since that time. There appears to be little rhyme or reason to it, but it has happened again. Maybe you took an accidental step backwards. Or maybe you were crazy enough to have identified some spot you disappeared before and you were actually experimenting with the effect every day to see when it happened. You know, to chronicle the dates it happen, to keep a record, to understand it better, all of those sorts of things that cause some sleepers to poke things that are Better Left Alone because that's what some sleepers do with their free time, and then they touch the spot with something and suddenly they and everything around them are sucked in. How you got there is not important. You're here now, wherever here is.

Only this time its different. You're not in the spot you were last time, and in the distance you can hear shuffling of feet. Dread enters your heart, as you know that you do not have the means to fight whatever it is. You have an overwhelming urge to run, to flee at top speed. You and whoever is "lucky" enough to be with you must run as fast as you can, around corners, a roaring, inhuman scream echoing through the hallways, slamming into walls. You can't quite see it, not unless you want a swift, awful death at least. But around a corner there is salvation, an elevator shaft and the door is open. Frantic scrambling, running and jabbing buttons will cause the doors to close, just as something black like a giant hand grabs the far wall. You hear the rush, the scream. The elevator shudders three times as something pounds on it, but you're safe. Or, are you?

Instead of the usual moldy hallways, you see what looks like a hospital hallway. Anyone who lived through the nightmare may have awful flashbacks, but nothing is chasing you this time. The impossibly stretching hallway seems ceaselessly unchanging, each door locked, at least until you happen to notice a grate on one of the overhead air conditioners open wide. If you are curious enough to crawl up and into it, you're treated to a long scramble through the passageway, right up until you hear voices, menacing ones in the distance. Crawl quietly!

A grate emanating ugly, light is up ahead. As you and your companion work your way over, you're hopefully not heard. Through the grate, you see something awful. Two mutilated and disfigured figures speak while a third, calm and ordered looking woman listens. She seems to have mutilated her throat such that she should not be able to speak, and the other two appear have performed torturous experiments on their own flesh, their twisted visages that of the 'Zealots' that the Sleepers sometimes whisper about in fear. "It is almost time for the harvest. We made the quotas last cycle but only barely. The need is greater. Sacrifices must be made," one hisses. The other nods vigorously. "Yes. The situation is decaying. We have to move to stop this before it gets out of hand."

Before they can say more, however, the third woman looks up, directly at the grate. She smiles once, and a voice echoes from her throat as what appears to be a mouth inside of it moves, her own lips unmoving. "Continue this discussion later. It seems the problem has worsened. We will need to step up security in the meantime." She reaches out a hand and wrenches. The air shimmers around them and suddenly the duct you are traveling in collapses and breaks beneath you. Instead of falling into the farm, however, you find yourself falling through darkness for what seems an eternity, until you collapse hard to the pavement, in front of the entrance to the Gate, your breath coming back to you slowly, shakily.

NOTES: Death is possible should a sleeper assault the first creature. It is a being of impossible angles and blackness, is itself unkillable and will rend its victims to oblivion through brute force. Fighting the Zealots is not possible through this prompt. The grate cannot be opened in time to exit into the Sleeper Farm and engage them. However, the astute will be certain that there was for a moment an actual entry through and into the Sleeper Farm, somehow. Those familiar with these locations will recognize them as being Floor 1, the Stalls

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

for L; halloween

[worldcleansing]

[ Adaptability is crucial when the world around you changes. In less than a week, Light manages to find a home that needs only a few repairs. The bartering system is easy for someone with the right social skills, and his practice of blood magic is going well. While it's hardly a life comparable to the one he had before, it's considerably more achieved than the blob that washed ashore.

He's lived on his own, with Misa, for years now so that much isn't a change. Gone is the boy who depended on his parents for food and shelter, and in his place is a man capable of caring for himself. Regular trips to the market keep his home well-stocked and give him the chance to familiarize himself with the city.

One face isn't meant to be so familiar.

It's impossible to mistake the dark, hooded eyes and shock of black hair. No matter the change in clothing, Light knows L the moment their eyes lock. The world around him fades as capable legs suddenly become incapable of moving. In an instant, the past few years rewind, and L's in his arms again, his weight too light for a grown man. Rewind becomes fast forward as the sense of boredom and buried regret struggle to overcome pride and the voice that reminds him that all of it was necessary for Kira. He'd won. He regretted winning. He would have regretted losing more.

Is it another hallucination? It's telling that Light doesn't question the possibility of hallucinating L; they were too linked for too long. Even after the detective took his last breath, he never left Light's life. Late nights at the office or in front of a monitor would sometimes leave a treacherous voice to whisper in his ear. What would life be like if L was alive? As he graduated from college and gained ranks in the NPA, as wars around the world stopped, none of it was able to break through the thick layer of boredom that returned once L's body was in the ground. It was fine, he reminded himself. Kira was a calling, a need to fix a rotten world, not a hobby to occupy his time.

All the time in the world has passed, but it's barely a fraction of a second before Light's able to take a single step forward, almost terrified that the figure will disappear. ]

L?

[ Is it so wrong to wish the phantom to be real? He isn't Kira here. Wanting the return of his greatest obstacle doesn't threaten the needs of the world. What does it mean if L answers? If it's not fake? Does he remember how he met his end? The very existence of somebody who knows him as Kira is dangerous, but that can be a problem later. For just a few moments, he's looking into the endless eyes of the only man who managed to make him engage in the world. ]

[hearthebell]

[It's not a phantom; it's very real.

L's eyes are wide as they meet Light's midday, his strange and uneven features fairly unmistakable for any who has ever met him. In many places in the world, his multicultural background might have made him desirably generic... but for any who knew him, and Light Yagami especially, he would stick out, even with middle-class victorian clothes appropriate to the setting.

He doesn't breathe, for a few moments. The next inhalation shudders, because this is uncanny. He's seeing someone years older than he should be, from the last time they interacted. He's seeing a successful mass-murderer.]

Don't!

[His own voice surprises him as he surges forward to catch and corral Light Yagami, older, broad-shouldered.]

It's "Lazarus Sauveterrre," here, You'll say that.

[worldcleansing]

[ The past few years have urged him into adulthood. His features are somewhat older and fit better on a man than a boy. As L's body decayed and gave way to the Eearth, Light's grew and matured. Tall, broad, and with more healthy color than L's managed, it's a stark contrast to the pale, somewhat unhealthy frame of his rival as if one can judge their fates by appearance alone.

The familiarity is macabre but comforting. It's the body of a man not allowed to age after death took him, but it's also all the familiar signs of the L he knew.

The L he missed. ]

Lazarus Sauveterrre.

[ Another L. He really can't help himself, can he?

It's hard to judge much by the response. It could be the reaction of a man who knows he's looking at his murderer; if so, that's going to make things difficult. Illogically, it's annoying to think it might change things. When that voice gained a bit more leverage, the story it wove was a challenge not unlike their original game. L would only feel more emboldened by his death.

The dead are dead. There's no changing their fate. He had to remind himself of the obvious more often than he cared to admit. ]

I guess it would be too much to think you'd pick a name easier for most people to remember easily.

[ Why are they talking about names? A corpse is standing before him, talking as if they were meeting again after a high-school parting. ]

[hearthebell]

[L, likewise, doesn't want to dwell on explaining a name that he chose, in part, because it would be difficult for most people to remember. The other reasons can be discussed at a later time, if Light stays, and L realizes, considering this so freshly after Shoyo's departure, that Light must stay.

If he had a pair of handcuffs on him, it's likely that he'd snap them shut in an impulsive and desperate move to keep this vision of a future he didn't live to see from vanishing back into the sea. Even if he doesn't, he acts and speaks with an undercurrent of urgency, informed by all faces he's seen come and go over the last year. It's not unlike the urgency of the Kira case, the knowledge that anyone could drop dead at any second, and the heart that stopped in their world pounds in L's chest.]

How long have you been here?

[Has it been more than a day, no, more than an hour? A possessive sort of fury simmers behind his eyes, imagining others that Light may have encountered, charmed, formed alliances with. Does someone who makes friends and finds lovers so easily feel the same sense of urgency L does? Could Light have built a relationship like L and Shoyo's in a fraction of the time, and feel less pain to lose it?

I don't think he feels the pain of loss. Not where people are concerned, anyway.

It doesn't occur to L that Light might have grieved him in any manner, intensifying his desire to make him feel pain in some other way. The headache of his name can be the very first, he thinks with petty satisfaction.]

When did you arrive?

[worldcleansing]

[ Light said most people would have trouble remembering it; he didn't include himself.

But L's assumption is a fair one. Light never imagined he would miss the very man who stood in the way of the perfect world. With the death of one man, so many more people had been saved. Wars have stopped. Following Kira is no longer done in hiding but instead, the television is full of those who shout his support. He never did it for fame, but the more infamous he becomes, the more criminals have to fear.

But he missed him. Perhaps not in a healthy way, but the fire that burnt so brightly between them left a cold sort of numbness that even his work as Kira could match, a boredom that no amount of effort could cure. Light knew even then that he had the challenge, but once it was gone, a normal life was even more difficult to handle.

Light Yagami is glad to see L again. ]

Almost a week now.

[ The specific day or hour doesn't matter.

It's difficult to not give anything away, but L has to know that Light has aged. Few men look the same at 23 as they did at 18. ]

If I'd known you were also here, I would have looked for you.

[ He'd say the same line no matter the degree of truth, but at this moment, he's downplaying the urgency he would have felt while searching. ]

[hearthebell]

[A week. What could Kira do in a week? What had he done?

Though L is a year older in Trench than he was the day he died in Light’s arms, he’s changed little in that time. The same wide, dark eyes peer out from under the same shaggy mop of black hair. Clothes chosen for loose comfort over well-fitted fashion hang on a stark and rangy frame, including a borrowed sweater. He looks like he’s slept poorly if at all, pale and hollow-eyed, a state that Light would be familiar with in all stages. Manic energy spanning days and sudden, violent crashes into exhaustion and listlessness were common during the case, after all, when they spent literally all of their time together at opposite ends of a chain as long as a man is tall.

Light is a man, now, in every sense of the word. More than that, Light is Kira, and would have taken over his own title in their world. Unlike L, he’s changed dramatically, and it puts the detective noticeably on his guard as he tries to gauge and navigate their dynamic after the passage of so much death and all those years.

It might not even be conscious, but L’s legs are planted in a supple, ready posture. If they did get into one of their classic fistfights now, for any reason, he suspects the match might not be so even. Is one truly one, anymore, now that the score has ticked so far for Light after L lost the chance to keep earning points?

What has happened to their world without him in it?]

I have a safe house nearby. I use it for cases. We can’t talk about what we need to so publicly.

[With everything running through his mind, even a secluded corner in a cafe, of which he knows many, could never be private enough.]

[worldcleansing]

[ Should anyone else hint at the need for privacy, Light would assume the matter is something deeply important or shameful. L would ask for privacy if he wanted to inform Light of his favorite toothpaste. So, it's no good to assume he plans on telling Light he remembers his own death. At the moment, seeing those eyes staring back at him, panic and defeat floating around in the blackness — there or not, Light is sure he saw those emotions — he felt a rush beyond compare. What consequence could he imagine coming from the smirk? His body was hidden from the others, and the only witness was dying in his arms.

Never did he imagine the crash that followed. ]

Then we'll go there.

[ If L doesn't remember, he'll be somewhat honest. There's no way the detective will believe they're still playing their game this far into the future. The slight push and pull of the stalemate that came before the end couldn't continue forever. Even then, L knew he was close to outing Light. He could risk telling him that they caught the real Kira; it would explain the time gap. It'd be easy to do.

He doesn't want to.

Logically, there are reasons behind it. L is so certain that Light is Kira that it'd be difficult, if not impossible, to believe. Nothing is really lost if he doesn't, but then he'd be spinning an entirely different future. If he made one mistake, L would be the one to catch it.

The reason beneath it all, buried so far that even Light doesn't acknowledge it, is that he likes that L knows he's Kira. After all, he never hid his name out of shame but for protection. Kira is the catalyst of their relationship.

Besides, unfortunately, Light can't be Kira here. ]

You've been here long enough to continue taking cases?

[hearthebell]

[L nods brusquely, pushing his hands into the pockets of his duster jacket and shuffling along in worn leather boots that look a little too heavy for his spindly legs. Shabby figure that he strikes, he moves with purpose, making sure, at all times, that his back is never completely turned to Light.

A few blocks through the winding streets, near the edge of the Willful Machine district, they come to a property that looks very much abandoned. It becomes clear that it isn't once L waves away the wards and unlocks the door, letting them into a darkened house with very bare-bones, minimal furnishing that suffices for a place to hide out, store emergency supplies, or crash for a single night if necessary.]

I'd call a year enough time. Wouldn't you?

[He shrugs out of his coat, tossing it over the back of a dusty, threadbare couch.]

Though you look like a few more have passed for you, since the last time we spoke.

[He digs around in one of the creaky cupboards above a sink that looks bone-dry and like it might not even have running water, pulling down a motley assortment of tins. It's safe to assume that L probably doesn't live alone, since his attention to running and stocking a household amounts to stale tea biscuits and cans of condensed milk.

He drops several on the table flanked with two mismatched, rickety chairs, clearly reaching the full extent of his capacity for hospitality.]

[worldcleansing]

[ It's a far cry from the expensive, decadent building that once housed nearly nothing aside from technology. The emptiness is the same. L never seemed to care about decoration, neither for his space nor for himself. Even now, his clothing was a bit nicer but seemed to be made for a different body.

A year hasn't changed him in some regards. In others? ]

Roughly five.

[ It isn't a slip but a calculated offer of information. There's no reason to stray too far from the truth. Light's capable of keeping his lies in order, but it's ridiculous to take chances where chances need not be taken. Unless L is able to recount the method by which he died, Light will admit to his murder but not to being the murderer.

As for the tins... He lifts one of them before giving L an unimpressed look. While the intent was probably partly there, he couldn't be bothered to follow it through to the end, could he? ]

Is this your way of saying I should carry my own can opener?

[ But more than the empty comment, Light's watching for eyes that are usually so emotionless. Will they betray anything at his ability to tell him how long it's been since they've last talked? He couldn't know that information so perfectly just by appearance alone. ]

[hearthebell]

[Five. L had estimated anywhere from four to seven; it fits within that range, but it still feels like a surprise to hear it stated, confirmed, no longer a possibility but a certainty.

As far as what Light's willing to volunteer, anyway, but L can't think of a reason to lie about the details when the basic truth is so clear and exposed. It's as obvious as the fact that Light is no longer a wide-eyed teenager declaring his innocence, and maybe that's what has L's own eyes wary and lingering. It's difficult to say that they're the eyes of a man who remembers his own death, but there's something new there. It's the way a child looks at a stove that has burned him, instead of one that yet might.

There was always so much they didn't need to say, that was just understood between them. L's starting to believe that this, at least, has not changed.

Perhaps he doesn't need to say that he remembers his death at Light's hands, as well as that smirk on his face, any more than Light needs to say that he is a murderer with the deaths of thousands on his neatly-groomed hands.]

It never hurts to be prepared.

[He returns to the sink as if about to prove that point. He rummages through a drawer, the jangling clatter of assorted metal jarringly loud in the house's prevailing emptiness, before returning with a slightly rusted awl.

He offers it, watching, waiting. What will his killer do with the pointed leather-working tool that would be clumsy, if not downright dangerous, to gouge open a can with?]

[worldcleansing]

[ Is this his idea of playing with fire? Give a murderer a sharp instrument and see if he goes for the kill? Or is it akin to pretending the flame of a candle is as dangerous as that of a larger fire? L knows that Light is hardly the same as the people who've killed with their bare hands for reasons that had nothing to do with world betterment. His actions made the evil pay and the good are finally able to achieve some peace. He's even less likely than the next guy to take the awl and stab him.

Light shakes his head. He has no use for it, neither as a weapon nor will he risk cutting his hand for the tea.

More importantly, L doesn't ask questions only if he knows the answer. Then, that much is understood between them even if he's sure the detective has already decided it was by Light's hand. While the truth, it isn't the story he'll tell if asked. There's rarely a reason to give more details than one asks for.

But there is one more thing unsaid, and he hesitates to say it. His one strength lies in the fact that L will likely not believe it and for once, Light is glad it'll be labeled a lie. It may seem silly to offer it out knowing it'll be as dismissed as his assurances that he isn't Kira, but he's saying it for himself more than he's saying it for L. After all, for five years, he hasn't let himself admit it. It's only in this world, where the idea of Kira can't be damaged, that he can acknowledge the truth. ]

We're not sentimental men so I won't linger on the topic, but I do want to say that it's good to see you again.

[ An odd thing to think from someone who murdered him, but perhaps it's finally it's time to return the surprise L once gave him by claiming Light was his only friend.

That line wasn't believed either. ]

[hearthebell]

[L tries, gamely, to not look too disappointed that Light won't injure himself trying to stab open a can of milk.

Then he reaches for the awl, punching several haphazard holes in the metal lid of a can of condensed milk. There's a haphazard deftness to it that says he's done this before, maybe even habitually. He takes a lapping sip from holes that dribble anticlimactically, putting easily as much milk on his face as goes into his mouth, which he wipes with his sleeve before regarding Light, hearing what does not go unsaid, along with all the little silent words in between.]

Yes. It is.

[He takes another sloppy three-holed sip of awl milk.]

I suppose a lot has changed. Whatever became of your father's heart?

[The question is phrased oddly, intentionally. Light's father suffered a nonfatal heart attack while L was alive and working with him. His heart would break, less literally but just as devastatingly, if he ever learned the truth about his son.]

[worldcleansing]

[ Stabbing at a sore point, is he? Light wishes his father could see the good that Kira is doing, but he's stuck in a more old-fashioned, less-successful form of judgment. He's a stubborn man, a quality that Light inherited, but sometimes, he has to wonder if his father has to work harder to deny the improved quality of the world.

No matter the prod, the answer stays the same: his still beats.

If it was a sincere question, it would still be an odd one considering his lack of obvious care when he was still alive. ]

Better.

[ I didn't lose that, either. ]

You know how hard it is to get him to listen most of the time, but Mom is better at it than either of us managed to be.

[ Though that's still not saying very much. ]

She's been able to force him into a little more downtime, and... things haven't been as busy for the normal side of the NPA.

[ Another cruel drop of information. The police force only becomes less necessary when crime is reduced. ]

[hearthebell]

We could have used Sachiko Yagami on the force, if that's true.

[Provided L could successfully manipulate her against her prized, beautiful, brilliant firstborn, of course. If he could talk Soichiro into firing a blank into his son's face, who's to say it wasn't possible?

L drinks his milk. Crime rate didn't go down; one person was just committing most of it.]

Not that one notebook wasn't sufficient to do untold amounts of damage, but in five years, did you ever manage to find more? Misa Amane's, perhaps, since I assume you moved in together by the new year.

[worldcleansing]

I'm not proud of the progress I've made on the case.

[ Though Light sounds dejected, they both know the truth: Light is very proud of the work he's been doing. While wearing the label of L and becoming a member of the NPA, he has more access to information than ever. ]

It's been stagnant. I've managed to keep your name alive and solve the other cases coming in for L, but we still haven't managed to make much progress as Kira.

[ Yet another subtle gloat that sounds like nothing more than the offering of information. Light is the new L.

But did it really satisfy him? The gloat loses its glow for a moment. He'd always assumed his rival did what he did mostly for the thrill, but then why couldn't the same thrill fulfill Light? He hasn't surrounded himself in the identify as L did, but even getting exciting cases paled in comparison to the game they'd played. There's really no other L.

That doesn't need to be voiced. Even internally, Light squishes it down. ]

She travels a lot for work, and I'm in the office a lot, but I have a hard time imagining that she'd still have a notebook.

[hearthebell]

[L peers back over the rim of his can, and there's something piercing, almost regally disdainful about his expression. It's subtle; the way the afternoon light catches his eyes, the hard set of his mouth.

Light may have taken the L title, but only a man who really became the letter could continue to embody it in a world where there is no longer any such position. L knows this as well as Light does, and it's quietly thrilling to know that for the man who took over his identity and turned it into a mockery of its original mission, it rang hollow in the way that should have been the most rewarding.

That's what you get: only and always exactly what you deserve, however much time it takes.

He knows that the pursuit of Kira would not have ended with his death and the data deletion. He knows that there were successors, true successors, ready to line up in his stead... except they weren't actually ready. Not when he was 25 and died still soaked from the rain. They would still have been children, and L had lost to Kira as an adult with almost two decades of experience.

Did they die? Were they shielded so that others could die at the hands of an unopposed, false god? L's talking to the one person who may know, who he cannot trust with any part of that question or answer, even implied.

There is so much he doesn't know about how the world shifted and reformed after his death.

Better to talk about Amane, then, since Light seems keen to throw her casually under the bus by confirming that, at one point, she did have a notebook. It's L's own hollow victory that he's surprised to find unrefreshing.]

If the killings continued unchecked for five years, someone surely does.

[Unchecked. The word leads; L hopes that Light will follow, give something up about the boys who would have opposed him eventually.]

[worldcleansing]

[ Considering how much evidence was found on the videotapes, Light can't just pretend to be blind. He won't outwardly say she was Kira, but he can pretend to be ignorant of any note she may have now. Of course, it's imperative that she has her own. Her eyes are a key part of the Kira operation.]

Unchecked? That's a pretty cruel thing to say to somebody heading the Kira investigation.

[ Near and Mello's presence is the biggest hole in Light's plan, but the man before him is blissfully unaware of their existence to manipulate the question in the way he'd like. ]

We haven't been able to stop him, but he can't operate openly, either. I'm not happy with only being capable of slowing him down, but managing that much is better than letting him run unhindered.

[ It gives the answer L is looking for without realizing there was even a question involved. His failure to realize there was more of a backup system will be his ultimate downfall.

Then he came here before he was able to fully establish Kira. ]

[hearthebell]

Cruel? Really.

[The inflection really makes the difference. Alone, the two words might not mean much. Together, with their speaker, they are bewildered and amused.]

If I couldn't catch Kira, how could you?

[We opposed each other; of course your goals would not be mine.]

However much you've managed... it's like you said before, Light. I am happy that you're here.

[A pause. Then, with a fey sort of recklessness]

You should come with me to my birthday party tonight. Would you?

[worldcleansing]

[ Perhaps L knows, but his behavior would be the same if he's working from assumptions. Light isn't going to roll with the 'theory' that he's Kira so while L manages his remarks, Light does well to look put out. His expression turn to surprise with the sudden shift in conversation. ]

Your birthday party?

[ It's not like there aren't a million other topics to discuss. L is dead, and Light has the details. Yet, he asks for none. He may know; it's equally possible that he wants Light to think he knows. When dealing with L, there's always the question of how much knowledge hes' obtained and how much bluff is in his words.

Why has Light missed this? He should enjoy being able to discern most people he meets. ]

I wouldn't have thought you'd enjoy having a birthday party, but I'll come.

[ Unlike the game to catch Kira, Light doesn't question the invitation. If L wanted to get him alone, it'd be easy enough without using an excuse Light might not have believed. ]

I'll need time to get you a gift.

[hearthebell]

[L shrugs a shoulder, seeming slightly annoyed, slightly resigned.]

Those I know see this as a way to honor and appreciate a person. My birthday got out, in spite of my best efforts. You should be prepared for that sort of thing here.

[Especially if you have something to hide.]

If I'm willing to go, you certainly should, too, with or without a gift. I'm not going to keep it a secret that I know who you are, here.

[Carefully, carefully phrased.]

[worldcleansing]

[ Such a carefully, carefully phrased invitation to ask. Of course, Light has to bring the topic into the open now. If L's spent this time convincing everyone that he's Kira, that could be a problem. He hasn't had the chance to establish himself yet, so the more familiar L would have their ear.

It's annoying, but instead of betraying his anger, Light sighs and seems exasperated instead. ]

Before I go to a party full of your friends, who will they think I am? A mass murderer from your world?

[hearthebell]

Friends...

[He says this with an almost obnoxious affectation, as though he's baffled to realize that he has any of them at all. He does, of course; many of them are in fact fiercely devoted and genuine.

He doesn't say so.]

No one knows who you are.

[Neutral, but barbed.]

Would it be alright to introduce you as my friend and classmate from my own world? I would be satisfied, with that.

[And perhaps this is the first hint Light can count on, that L is not obsessed with immediately revealing him.]

[worldcleansing]

[ There's nothing to gain from revealing Light's life as Kira aside from distance and separation. L would get a form of revenge, but nothing that fits the 'crime' , and the decision would ensure the two would run in very different social circles. Ego suggests L would miss him as much as he'd missed L. After all, before Light entered the picture, he hadn't met a challenge either. ]

I don't mind. I'm still going by my real name.

[ But that's an area where they've taken different paths. L likes to hide in the dark, Light prefers to become well-known enough to gain power. Change doesn't come from the weak. ]

But I do plan to bring a gift. I've had enough time to learn some of the shops.

[ Light wonders if L feels any caution about inviting Light to meet those important to him? There's no reason to kill him, Kira isn't possible at the moment, but most would worry about having the two sides of his live interact.

For now, he's allowed to say three words he never thought he'd utter: ]

Happy Birthday, L.

[hearthebell]

Part of existing among psychics and living gods is the fact that information has a way of getting out, here.

[It's both a sort of confession and a sort of warning. Light isn't in danger of having his secret betrayed by L, who has something to lose if concerned friends want to keep them apart, but there are myriad other ways it could happen, in spite of all care.]

I never would have said anything, but since I can have a birthday party here, and there are people who want to throw one... I do want you there, Light.

[He names the address of the house it'll be at. Not Paul's, or anyone's, but outfitted for the sole purpose of this event.]

[worldcleansing]

[ The news is certainly not very uplifting. If someone were to read his mind, his time as Kira would certainly be misunderstood. Without seeing the wonderful changes he's made in the world, it would look like he was just a murderer. How can one really understand a world without war, without crime? It seems impossible without experiencing it.

Light silently notes to research mind blocks. If blood magic is possible here, who's to say he can't block out his mind? But it's a later topic.

Unless one of the psychics is there. ]

Since the party was planned by somebody who knows your birthday, doesn't that mean they'll be invited, too? I didn't think you'd enjoy spending time with somebody who'd be able to easily read you.

[ Will the psychic be there? ]