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inmyownworld ([info]inmyownworld) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2010-06-19 19:20:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Current mood: anxious
Current music:Bright Eyes- "At the Bottom of Everything"
Entry tags:day 1: reboot, john watson, l lawliet, location: oak grove court

Oh, My Morning's Coming Back, the Whole World's Waking Up
Who: L Lawliet ([info]inmyownworld) and Dr. John Watson ([info]j_watson)
What: This is the first day of the rest of your lives~
When: Day One, 10:00 A.M.
Where: 512 Oakgrove Court
Rating: PG-ish, for the oh-so-traumatic implication that these good people are not where they last knew they were!
Status: Closed and Active.



He was cold and wet from being outside in the rain, the grinning menace behind his suspect's wine-colored eyes seemingly only visible to him. He was back at his desk, tapping a spoon restlessly on the table before setting it decisively on its head against a page of the murder weapon. "I'm going to try out the notebook for real," he announced, to the horror and fascination of the individuals surrounding him like a cocoon. "It's all worked out," he assured them in a calm voice, explaining his plan. A criminal sentenced to die in thirteen days would write the name of a criminal sentenced to die immediately, and if he was still alive thirteen days later, he would be set free.

Light's father, the faultless, shining moral compass, had misgivings. "But still... to sacrifice a human life..."

"We are very close," L interrupted authoritatively. "If we work this out, the entire case will be solved." As if to punctuate his words, there was a sudden power outage, and as the backup kicked in, the sight of his mentor, caretaker, and handler clinging weakly to his desk. L couldn't reach him, or touch him, or help him, since they were in different locations and their only current connection was through a monitor.

"Watari...?"

He woke with a start, sitting up quickly, trying to find his bearings. He had been lying on a smooth, hard wood floor in an unfurnished room, with sunlight streaming through the window. Standing slowly and carefully, he thought back to what he remembered... or had it been a dream? Was Watari really dead? Had he really been about to die, himself? How long ago was it, and what was this place, here and now? He didn't want to jump to conclusions and assume that he was dead, but with what he currently had to work with, how was he supposed to rationalize waking up alone in an undisclosed location? Taking a deep breath, he resolved to keep his head on straight. He had never seen panic accomplish anything worthwhile, and though there was a churning, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach that was worried for Watari and not quite sure that he should still be alive, he was going to approach this current situation as calmly and logically as he could.

His fingers fell on a small plastic box, and he wasted no time opening it and examining the contents. Inside, he found a pair of tube socks (no use to him; he occasionally suffered through wearing shoes, but despised socks), tic-tacs (orange), a journal with his real name on it (highly unnerving to the secretive and private detective), a ball-point pen, and what appeared to be a key to a Post Office box. He pocketed the key and tic-tacs, tossed the tube socks aside, held the pen, and tucked the journal under his arm as he tried the door. It opened easily, and he stepped out into a living space as unfurnished and bare as his room had been.


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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 12:31 am UTC (link)
L actually grew up in England, though he speaks with a generic, media-ready midwestern American accent. L was technically only a quarter Japanese, but the nationality's traits came out strongly in his features, especially for those who hadn't seen many individuals from Asia. Though L's looks were vaguely androgynous, he had no problem immediately labeling the person in the doorway as not only male, but certainly British.

He nodded shortly in greeting, poor with small talk and socially awkward. Where he'd come from, it was his habit to hire individuals with good people skills to pose as him if a situation called for his presence. In a soft, clipped voice, he asked, "What is your name, and do you know where we are? Did you bring me here?" he was careful to keep his monotone free of any sort of accusation, though his dark eyes were not unsuspicious.

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 12:35 am UTC (link)
He found himself greatly comforted that the boy spoke English. The stranger was tall for a boy, perhaps an adolescent or a youthful looking man. Given the brief, though to the point questions, it was remarkably clear that he possessed an American accent.

He extended his hand. For all of his disorientation, he had not lost his manners. "Dr. John Watson, and I haven't the slightest clue where we are. And I certainly didn't bring you here. I'm not certain I brought myself here."

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 12:45 am UTC (link)
L glanced at the man's hand before cautiously taking it, perhaps taking too long to return the formality. His shoulders were stiff and his eyebrows knit together uncomfortably as he gave the man's hand the briefest shake he could possibly get away with, before hastily withdrawing and grasping a fistful of loose denim as if hoping it would soak away any germs that might have clung to his skin.

"Dr... medical, or otherwise?" L asked, trying to determine any connection he could possibly have with this new person. He stepped closer, inhaling slightly as Watson spoke. No scent of alcohol on his breath, that he could detect... the possibilities, as far as he could tell, included (but were not limited to) a few options. They could have been brought here and left together, or Watson could have brought him and forgotten. Watson could also have been lying through his teeth, but L had seen liars, and there were no traces of deception on the man's face.

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 12:53 am UTC (link)
He had been through tenser greetings, though most involved members of Holmes' street informants. There was an unearthly quality to this man, fed into by his aloof and somewhat childish nature.

At the question he straightened up. "Of medicine." It was then that he realized that he was, much to his dismay, giving away all of his information. Holmes had regularly reminded him of how important information can be as a piece of leverage. "And yourself?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 01:22 am UTC (link)
L stared at the man's clothes, dating them at the late 19th or early 20th century. Why was he wearing a suit like that in this day and age? Especially if he was a doctor, and not an actor, by profession? He leaned forward, too close to Watson to be within traditional standards of personal space, touching the weave of the other man's shirt with long, delicate fingers.

"Why are you dressed like this? These clothes are from the Victorian Era."

He hoped that the question would divert from the question Watson had asked him. L chose his name based on his surroundings... Nikolai in Russia, Luke in America, Ryuzaki in Japan... but he didn't know if there were people here who could contradict any sort of false name he came up with with knowledge of his real name. Since it was printed on the front of his journal, it was highly likely that this was the case.

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 01:34 am UTC (link)
The stranger's invasion of Watson's space, while not uncommon in his daily life, was unwelcome and sudden. "I-" he attempted to protest but couldn't get past the first syllable before the other man spoke.

"As far as I know," he said with a bit of indignation in his voice. "Queen Victoria is alive and well." For a moment, he wondered if he should have been reading the evening post instead of the case files, but if the Queen had suddenly passed, there would have been a lot more uproar than simply a posting in the papers.

Watson took a step away, stepping with his left and dragging his right back with him. There was little to be understood through these strange rooms. They appeared unoccupied, but not new. Everything about this place seemed not only foreign, but disconnected with anything resembling his own understanding of reality. "Clearly," he began again with still a hint of tension in his voice, "we are both at a loss."

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 01:48 am UTC (link)
Really... So either Watson was delusional, lying, or he was actually from the Victorian Period. L wasn't willing to settle on any one of those options, but the most logical option also happened to be the most incredible. Everything about the man's speech patterns, mannerisms, and appearance pointed to him actually coming from the late nineteenth or early twentieth century, even though L knew it just wasn't possible. Then again... he'd thought that seeing a Shinigami was just not possible. He wouldn't assume, or rule out, anything. Not until he had sufficient proof.

L took a break from nibbling the pad of his thumb, tilting his head slowly and regarding Watson appraisingly. "Your logic is flawed," he said bluntly. "What supports that deduction? I could be anyone. What I say isn't necessarily the truth. Saying that we are 'clearly' both at a loss is rather hasty." He pushed past Watson, going into the bathroom and examining the fixtures.

"These seem to be from the 1950s," he noted. "What's odd is that they appear new..."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 02:06 am UTC (link)
The small tirade was reminiscent of many he'd been the recipient of before. And, like most of the similar instances, Watson remained silent throughout.

This strange fellow was beginning to show many similarities to his dear friend. The word 'deduction' was especially key in his mind's likening of this stranger to Holmes. Even more so when he pushed past Watson to pursue other curiosities.

With his uneven gait, he followed the other man in his pursuit. The restroom which he emerged from was still as peculiar as ever. On the edge of the tub opposite from where his head had been uncomfortably resting, he saw a small box, which seemed somewhat out of place in the curious room.

It wasn't until the mention of the twentieth century that Watson had truly been alarmed by anything about this stranger. "Nineteen fifties, you say?" Surely, he meant eighteen fifties, but then, it didn't look a thing like eighteen fifties fittings or architecture.

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 03:01 am UTC (link)
"Yes, nineteen fifties," L said, stressing the word that Watson had doubted. If Watson was really pulling his leg, he wanted him to know that he didn't buy it for a second, and if he was, somehow from nearly a century before L was even born... well. That was something they would both have to come to terms with, and this wasn't really a poor start. "After the Second World War, numerous similar homes went up all at once to accommodate the sudden spike in population... I don't claim expertise in household fixtures, but these are definitely from that era." He glanced at the box Watson had noticed. "I am going to hazard a guess that it contains tic-tacs, a pair of tube socks, a key, a pen, and a journal. Please open it and confirm this."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 03:10 am UTC (link)
At the mention of the Second World War, Watson made a small attempt to question, and perhaps even protest, but he only managed a small sound before he ate his words until the strange man was done.

He took the box, as instructed, and flipped it open with relative ease. As he did so, he finally got a word in. "What do you mean Second World War? We haven't had a first one yet. And I can assure you, I would have noted if there had been."

The box contained, precisely as he had been told, a pair of socks, a key, a slim pen, a journal, and a peculiar box of small pills, which he guess were the 'tick-tacks'. It was somewhat unnerving to discover his name inscribed on the cover of the journal. "What a strange collection - but how did you know?"

Almost immediately as he said it, he noted the journal tucked under his companion's arm.

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 03:51 am UTC (link)
Watson was either devoted to playing the part, or serious about being from the Victorian Era. Either way, L was impressed. Not that he showed it; signs of approval from him were generally sparse if they existed at all. "To me, your time period is by-gone," L replied. "There have been two world wars, so far as I know, and both of them began and ended before I was born. As far as I know, it should be five years into the twenty-first century... but your presence, as well as the presence of these paradoxically new antiquities, makes me question that somewhat."

He felt a rush of triumphant confidence when Watson found precisely what he'd said he would. "I knew because I found one like it, which you could easily have deduced by noting that I am holding one of the items I mentioned."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 05:00 am UTC (link)
Watson batted his eyes a few times. The few things this man could be intending by saying such things were all unsettling to him, especially the possibility that he was telling the truth. No matter how unlikely the truth seemed, the architecture of the building and the other unfamiliar things it contained would fit. "If I am understanding you, then you mean to say that we are both removed from not only where, but when we are from?" He scoffed. "That is a bit fantastical, don't you think?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 09:21 pm UTC (link)
"Yes. I agree wholeheartedly. However, the alternative is that you're lying to me or insane," L said levelly.

"I know that I was born in the late 20th century, and that the last date I saw on a calendar was in the early 21st. If you are indeed from the Victorian Era and these new fixtures are from the 1950s... then it would almost be logical to say that we have been 'removed' from our times, as you so succinctly put it..." he took a moment to open his journal, the gesture feeling oddly familiar. He brought out his pen, and comprehension lit up his pale features as he received a response almost immediately while writing.

"It would appear that I am correct. Or at least, that others have reached the same conclusion. Do you know a woman named Lexie Grey, or a man called Sherlock Holmes? It seems that they have also woken up somewhere in this place. Which... apparently... is called Vas Captio."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-20 10:17 pm UTC (link)
Indignation rose in his voice. "I can assure you I am perfectly sane, or at least I was until I arrived here!"

Watson was about to question the validity of the stranger's statement when he began to elaborate on their situation which seemed to answer the very question on his lips.

When the other man went for his journal, Watson flipped open his box and fetched his journal. Just as it was within his grasp, he heard a name most familiar to him. "Did you say Sherlock Holmes?" Seeing as he gleaned that information from his notebook, Watson hoped he might find similar information in his own.

The contents of the book were exceptionally bizarre and he read them with great care.

"Am I to understand that writing in here will show up there?" He asked, pointing to the other journal.

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-20 11:54 pm UTC (link)
L scanned the entries over quickly, occasionally letting his presence be known by jotting a response to the visible entries. He learned quickly that several people remembered him, a concept he found unnerving, along with the fact that they knew him as L. Ah, well. At least he knew what to introduce himself as. Chances were slim that he would find himself in a situation where a person would associate that letter with anything that could be dangerous to him.

"I did say Sherlock Holmes. Others share our predicament, just in different locations, and some remember being here before. It would seem that I've been... but I can only remember the experience vaguely. We have been asked to meet up with someone named Gambit."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-21 12:25 am UTC (link)
Watson settled in for a moment with his journal and wonderful pen that worked like a pencil. Carefully, he read every page filled with strange, foreign styles of handwriting. He scribbled a few things down before looking up to respond.

"I am to understand your name is 'L'?" It must have been a pseudonym of some sort.

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-21 12:47 am UTC (link)
"It is, and you may address me as such," L replied, all business. "You... seemed interested in the name Sherlock Holmes. Is he an acquaintance of yours?"

Few things evaded L's notice, and he had paid particularly close attention to the way Watson's face had lit up with recognition when the name was spoken.

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-21 01:07 am UTC (link)
"Yes," he urgently replied, "Holmes is my friend, and I should like to find him presently."

He read on to see more words appearing. "This is marvelous." He then took stock of what he just said. "It is, of course, terrible that we are all here, but this paper is somehow able to be shared. That is quite remarkable!"

Once more he scribbled words down in his scratchy doctor's handwriting.

"We should find these other people."

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-21 05:08 am UTC (link)
L nodded in firm agreement. If he was good at anything, it was finding people.

"I'd suggest going to the diner. It would appear that people are gathering there."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-21 05:19 am UTC (link)
"I see here some people are headed to a chemist's," he commented, pointing to his journal. "I should like to see if I can be of any assistance there."

He then realized he had no idea where that might be. "However, first I must find it."

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-21 05:28 am UTC (link)
"Along with Holmes," L agreed, glancing over Watson's shoulder. "I think I'll accompany you, if you're not adverse to the idea." L closed his eyes, thinking. "I lived there when I was here before, I think. I at least spent a lot of time there... so I'm sure I remember where it is."

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-21 05:36 am UTC (link)
"Good," Watson agreed. "I could certainly use the guidance and would appreciate the company, Mr. L."

Watson packaged up his survival kit and pushed it under his left arm before moving toward the exit to the rooms he had woken up in. His step was that of a permanently wounded man. His left leg strode a normal length, taking his right leg with it shortly thereafter with a long drag of his left foot.

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-21 11:51 pm UTC (link)
"Just L," he corrected automatically. Any sort of honorific or title had never seemed to fit well with his name or his identity; they were too stiff, too conventional, and too adult. Having already mostly gutted his survival kit, L decided to leave the plastic casing and socks, carrying the key and tic-tacs in his pocket and the journal and pen in his hands. They seemed invaluable, and he thought it would be useful to keep a constant eye on since new updates seemed to appear often.

L studied Watson's gait with some interest. "Were you in an accident, or is that a wartime injury?" he inquired.

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[info]j_watson
2010-06-22 12:35 am UTC (link)
"A war wound," he shortly answered, not even turning round to address L. Instead, it only strengthened his resolve to get out of the house and to where Holmes was.

Once he got to the front door, he pulled it open and surveyed their surroundings. In a moment of what he thought was brilliance, he flipped open his journal again and began to pen down something new. "Now we only need to find our destination."

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[info]inmyownworld
2010-06-27 09:05 pm UTC (link)
L took the opportunity to step ahead of Watson since he planned to lead the way, but first pausing to see what he was writing.

"Would it be too much trouble to ask..." he mumbled with his finger in his mouth, peering over Watson's shoulder.

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