InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Kaylo Taco Bell"

Laura Moon (spitandviolets) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-04-06 14:21:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 03, l lawliet, laura moon, location: pharmacy/liquor store

Who: Laura Moon & L
What: Laura's returning to her "house guest" after a tangle with a nasty kitty.
When: Early morning, sometime around 6:00am or 7:00am by a watch.
Where: Bob McGillicuddy's Drug / Liquor Store
Rating: PG-13 for some gore / violence allusions
Status: Complete

There had been snarling, clawing, the gnashing of teeth. Laura had heard the best long before she had seen it. She had, in fact, felt it long before she had seen it. Its breath had been warm against her skin. Her superhuman speed had saved her from that blow. Just as Andy had warned her, it was angry. For a brief moment she had thought that maybe Sam was right; maybe she should have brought him along with her. Regardless, she was here now. The beast had found her long before she had found it. She could feel humans, but not carnivorous beasts of the forest.

The battle had been epic. She had left her cardigan back at the store, hoping that L might be able to use it as a pillow or something. She didn't even know him, but he seemed lost and tired, and she was glad that her home would be guarded for the night. She was dressed in a tanktop and a pair of jeans, all of it clinging tightly to her body. Loose clothing would have been a poor choice. The first half of the fight had been the two predators circling each other. It was uncertain who was the prey and who was the hunter. The beast seemed to not want to tangle with her much once it had got her scent. Creatures such as that had serious problems with dead meat, especially when it was walking and threatening their lives. It had made the first move, then, and that was what Laura was counting on. It had lunged at her, and as she weight far less than a normal woman of her height and weight, she had gone flying. Her body landed in a heap on the ground. She was mildly dazed by the attack, but less phased than a normal person. She paid, though, for being sloppy. It sank its teeth deep into Laura's shoulder, and with its jaws it began to thrash and pull. There was the sickening sound of bone crunching under razor teeth and powerful jaws. She did not, however, even seem to notice when the beast let go and, confused, prepared for another lunge. She had tried to use her right arm to get up, but while it still moved it would not support her weight. It, literally, was only half attached. This was going to make things a bit more complicated. In the end, however, she had killed the beast. She could punch with far more force than a normal human being. First she had dislocated its jaw; her left hook was nasty. After that it was a matter of killing it, which she had done with the assistance of a very hefty rock.

It had taken Laura a very, very long time to return to town. She was forced to drag the body, and she didn't want to leave it. Maybe someone could use it for food. It would at least provide proof that she had done away with the beast and that the citizens need not fear anymore. The sun was rising higher into the sky than she wanted, and though she was not tired it was difficult to maneuver. At one point she stopped, hoping to find out if L had stayed at her place; he did not need to see her like this. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was there and he was worried about her. Draping the beast over her shoulders, using it to hide the absence of an attached shoulder, she picked up the pace. Her muscles did not protest. Upon reaching the shop, she jotted another quick note to her impromptu roommate and entered. There was no sense prolonging the inevitable.

The dead woman stood in the doorway of the shop, a dead and bloodied cougar draped over her shoulders. Blood bathed her body, her pale skin dotted with, in the darkness, what looked like black. She looked around, plain as if it were noon, and she noted that her beer case was still empty and waiting for her. Her right arm hung limply by her side, while the left held onto the front paws of the animal. She had been warm for a moment, but the life had left it too quickly.

"L?" she called out in that flat, dead voice of hers. She was quiet, though, hoping not to wake him if he was asleep, which he probably was not. She had advised him to leave. Hopefully he had followed that. A few steps more in, she looked around again. "Are you still here...?"

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inmyownworld
2009-04-07 07:58 pm UTC (link)

L had always been one to take the kindness of others seriously, if sometimes for granted. Since he depended on more able and responsible people for his livelihood, he wasn't about to pass up opportunities to be cared for, even in small ways like using one person's lodging while they weren't around. Though... he wasn't sure if he'd be asking to stay much longer. It wasn't so much the woman before him he found frightening, but the sight of the dead cat and her clearly superior strength to any human L had ever known. He tilted his head warily, clearly puzzled, when she whispered something that his keen ears heard as "formaldehyde". The observant detective caught a glimpse of Laura's arm; though it certainly wasn't the best view and it was dark, it didn't look normal. She had said that she was damaged, hadn't she?

Taking a deep breath, L consciously slowed his heart rate and calmed himself as Laura approached him after relieving herself of the beast's weight. One of L's strengths was his ability to control his emotions, and he wasn't about to let his unease and uncertainty make him seem weak. Though it didn't seem like looking strong and capable was really an option, here... this woman had just single-handedly bested a mountain lion, after all. "It's... nice to meet you, too..." he said, standing, the adrenaline in his body annoying him as it caused his limbs to quiver incessantly. "I am Ryuzaki..." his eyes flickered to her arm again, and oddly, he felt drawn towards her because of it. L had never spent much time around injured individuals, but something of a latent instinct seemed to be stirring within him. Biting his lip, he took the cardigan he had rested his head on during the night and draped it over her good shoulder, clumsily, as if he had never even dressed a doll before and didn't know how to approach such things except with experimental vigor. He glanced around until he found a chair, fetching it and setting it near Laura, touching her arm hesitantly. L had the tendency to make perfectly natural gestures seem strange and badly rehearsed rather than human, but he was clearly trying to show his concern through his actions rather than through his usual monotone.

"Please sit down. Your arm doesn't look good," he said, noticing, with a start, that her arm was icy cold. Weren't there any blankets around? Forget just injured, Laura was clearly sick, as well. While he did notice that she used the past tense when referring to her name, his logical mind deduced that such a misstep must have occurred because she was confused after a traumatic experience. He wouldn't take it too seriously.

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spitandviolets
2009-04-08 12:07 am UTC (link)

As she could feel the blood pumping in his veins, Laura could also sense the heightened blood pressure and the rush of adrenaline in his system. He was, she could feel, in almost complete and total flight or fight mode. It interested her, though, this reaction, and his attempt to fight it. The slowing, for instance, actually worked; he was not anywhere as cool and calm as a cucumber, but he wasn't a rabbit trapped in the headlights of an oncoming moving van. Still, somewhere inside of the empty cavity that was her chest, Laura was saddened by the fact that he was so afraid. It must have been a deep and profound sadness, for it managed to penetrate the deep and constant haze of gloom and death that hung about her. There was not a great deal of things that Laura felt, but in this place it seemed that she felt things with increasing frequency.

"I shouldn't have come back," she said, her voice full of fact and virtually no question. "You're frightened. You're used to not showing that you are, though." Her dark eyes looked into his face, locked there, studying. It was as if she were looking for some sort of universal truth behind his eyes; most thought that stare was the most intense experience they had in a good chunk of time. "It isn't nice to meet me at all," she remarked, being his advocate, "in fact, it is probable that you wish that you never had. There is a laundry list of places that you can think of that you would rather be right at this very moment."

For once she was rigid, almost corpselike. Why, if he was so frightened, was he advancing towards her? She almost recoiled when he was near her. Her scent was stronger in person, a mix of perfume, which was fading due to the fact that, at this time, she had none, clove cigarettes, which was also fading, and chemicals, which was stronger in person than on her sweater. Still, his gesture, kind and gentle, was somewhat appreciated. As he draped the cloth over her shoulder, a bit sloppily, she was flattered by his kindness. People did not usually overcome their fear to be kind. That would explain the difference in his light; she had to wonder if there were other differences. Laura shifted around him awkwardly, her own gestures seeming just as rehearsed and inhuman as his own. It was as if she were trying to avoid him.

And then he touched her.

Her skin crawled, but not in a bad way. It was like electricity was radiating from a single point on her body, and that point was where his fingers had been. Warmth, warmth that she had not known, warmth that not even the cougar's spurting blood could adequately replicate, surged through her dead muscles and veins for a moment. If it was possible for the sad, pale deathmask of her face to portray such an emotion, Laura Moon was shocked. She had not imagined it would be so quite like that. She craved touch, yet she had not known how badly. Her eyes were heavily lidded, and a different kind of haze from her usual one seemed to hover around her head. All too soon it had subsided; his touch was gone.

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spitandviolets
2009-04-08 12:08 am UTC (link)

"I'm fine," she said, recovering herself after her momentary and incredible weakness. Touch. To be touched was her greatest desire, yet it was a problem. People always noticed that she was cold. Laura was colder than cold, in fact, she was icy. Her skin was barely room temperature, and it always seemed slightly clammy. "I told you, I don't feel pain. In addition, I do not hunger, and I am incapable of being sick or tired." She paused, thinking. She had used a great deal of energy. Fortunately, Laura did not thirst in the same way as normal people. She did not drink because she was thirsty or because she saw water and it made her thirsty; she thirsted when the cells of her body needed hydration. Some of them, especially the abused tendons of her legs, required water, and soon. It was a faint feeling, but she always knew when she needed liquids because the back of her tongue became dry, cold, and thick in the back of her mouth and the top of her throat.

Turning away from him, Laura wandered to the empty refrigerator case that she called her bed. Her journal was at the bottom of it, neatly tucked away, as was her survival kit. She drew the cardigan off of her good shoulder, and as she opened the case a bit of light reflected. It was nearly impossible to notice the state of her shoulder at that point, practically detached and hanging by a single tendon, but perhaps it was a trick of the light. She drew her cardigan over it. When she knelt to open her kit, the damaged arm hit the floor with a dull, hard, sickening thud. She smirked to herself. The sound was a little amusing. Taking out the water bottle, Laura tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.

She held her bad arm and limped back to him. "Since you asked so nicely," she said, she touched the back of the chair, "I will sit with you. But only if you sit down as well." She looked around, noticing another chair, and motioned to it. "Would you draw it over...and stay to talk with me a while?"

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inmyownworld
2009-04-08 02:51 pm UTC (link)

"That's ridiculous. It is where you are staying, of course you should have come back," L maintained firmly. Briskness, self-assurance... good ways to hide fear. Good ways to appear normal and collected. Blinking when she pointed out, truthfully, that he was used to hiding feelings like fear, he tried to refocus the attention on Laura. It was his main coping mechanism for social encounters... let me be an insect, still and quiet on the wall, while the world gives me something to observe. He who speaks least learns the most, he who asks the most questions gets the most answers and gains the greatest advantage. "It is nice to meet you. The cougar just... it's dead," L said, as if that explained it, completely unaware of the unintentional irony considering Laura's own state. "As for places I would rather be... I'm sure that's true for everyone here. We were taken away from our own worlds, jobs, and lives, after all. But it is better to be in a place like this with someone nearby, since it gets lonely so quickly in the dark..." he stopped talking, aware that he was rambling. Perhaps it had to do with his limited exposure to women, but he was saying things having no idea where they were coming from.

L withdrew his touch only because he noticed how it seemed to affect Laura. Something between pleasure and pain... this also concerned him. Having never caused a reaction so akin to something almost sensual, he retracted his hand, pressing it close against his rib cage, while she made strangely confident claims about her seemingly superhuman abilities to withstand things like hunger and pain. Perhaps she was delirious?

He watched as she made her way over to the refrigerator case, gnawing his fingertip, wondering what she was up to. He still wanted her to have a seat and rest for a moment. Just then, her arm... dropped off. L had thought that it looked a little odd, but... certainly not like it could do that. He stared in abject horror for a moment, before...

"Hhehe... heheheheh...." the laughter was nervous, timid, and quavery, and a completely inappropriate reaction to the situation. Laura's non-reaction (which L might have found funny in the first place) reaffirmed just how serious things actually were. L bit his tongue, feeling like an idiot for reacting so oddly to something so horrible.

He grabbed the chair, glad for something to do, his brain working overtime to try and rationalize what was happening. "Um... your... arm," he forced out, taking a seat in the other chair, staring at it. "We... have to fix your arm. Right now. Do you... do you have a sewing k-k-kit?" Good God, was he stuttering? His cheeks were warm... he realized that he was actually blushing, as well. What was wrong with him?

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spitandviolets
2009-04-09 11:27 am UTC (link)

His self assurance, she was fairly certain, was an elaborate mask, much like the Noh masks that she'd read about once in a Japan travel guide. Laura knew a good deal about the world, all the happy things that they talked about in travel books, all the sad and powerful things. Her real world experience, however, had drastically increased after she had died. She was wise beyond her years, she knew things that no living person could know, and the saddest part was that she didn't care to think about them. She dealt in facts and truths, not in impressions and fallacies.

She was devastated when he seemed to pull away even more from her. It was her own fault, though, she had to remind herself. People, real people, didn't react to being touched that way. She did, though, because it was strong enough to make her feel. It was like the first time in her life that she'd smoked a cigarette, the first dose of calming, collecting, inspiring nicotine. She had to wonder what would have happened to her if she'd lived longer, if she'd kept on smoking while living longer. It probably would have been a royal disaster. Instead of her nice, fast, relatively clean and painless death, she would have slowly declined. One of the best things that she could remark about her current state was that she was good looking. Morticians these days were miracle workers. There was no apparent bruising, most of her scars had been isolated to her body, and they kept her from decomposing faster than she would have without the chemicals.

"If my presence unsettles you, though, I shouldn't have returned. You sleep. You need good shelter more than I do. Having my own base of operations is, really, only a convenience." A pause. How was she going to explain this? "I like the dark, and I prefer to be chilly."

That was when his remark about the cougar reached her ears and about the time that her right arm decided to fall... all but clearly clean off. Those last few muscles and tendons were holding it on, but there was no hiding a wound like that. She moved slowly, trying not to scare him. This would be a difficult explanation, one that she'd only had to make once before; the last time it had been to her widower husband, not to a complete stranger. She circled him before sitting, holding his gaze, trying to keep him from spooking any more than he already was shaken. That was when light dawned on marble head. Truth. The dead only dealt in truths. Casually, Laura unscrewed the top of her water bottle with her teeth and spit it off to the side, taking a sip. Her body began to feel a little better.

Looking away from him, focusing over his shoulder so as not to creep him out with her staring, she shook her head. "Not me. Then again, I don't really count as an everyone..." Her voice trailed off for a moment. Images of Shadow hanging from the World Tree flashed across her vision. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. There's not really anything for me anywhere. Here is as good, or as bad, as any other place. No preference, really. Tends to happen when you just sort of...exist...instead of really live. I know that before I was taken I had just worked it all out. I had just found clarity, and I knew what needed to be done, I knew who was behind it all. I was on my way to avenge someone I cared about very deeply. I knew that it would probably lead to damage, but not to pain. The only difference here is that I lack that clarity, and now I cannot avenge that person."

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spitandviolets
2009-04-09 11:27 am UTC (link)

Those dark eyes flicked to his face. She was very good at remaining stone still, only moving her eyes, watching him, looking into him. "The cougar isn't the only thing that is dead here, Ryuzaki. I see no sense in hiding it from you any longer. I am in the past tense. That is why there are so many superhuman, perhaps subhuman, things about me. You look smart, though logical, and undeath does not fit into your scheme of things, as it does not fit into the scheme of many. I do not sleep, I do not eat, I do not feel pain. I do not feel anything but the strongest of sensations." Pausing, she moved to wipe the gaping hole that was her shoulder, flicking formaldehyde off to the side. Dripping in front of polite company seemed impossibly rude. "I am sorry if the notion of me alarms you. You're free to leave."

Another pause. She did not want him to leave. And why was he blushing? Setting down her water, she sighed and looked at him less intensely, forcing herself to blink to make the effect less alarming. "I think your idea about fixing my arm is a good one. I don't have a sewing kit, though. Nothing of the sort. I only have what came in that box. It doesn't bother me, though. It's just an arm. Useful in a pinch, but it did its job. The cougar is dead. I was useful. I've protected you humans from it The arm is a small price to pay for safety. Granted, it got a piece of me before expiring, but I have the feeling that I would have faced far worse had I not been taken to this place."

Laura fell silent and looked away from him. She didn't feel shame. Maybe it was disappointment. She wasn't human, and she was something to fear. It was an awfully depressing feeling, or maybe it was just lonely.

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inmyownworld
2009-04-09 02:34 pm UTC (link)

L furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of Laura's words but failing somewhat. Everything she said seemed to contradict human nature. He had seen for himself that she had super-human qualities, and strangely enough, after the displacement and oddities that had already occurred, L would not find it overly surprising if Laura did indeed turn out to be inhuman. But... surely no one would prefer to be chilly or not need sleep. It didn't fit with everything L knew about physics or biology. "Your presence does not unsettle me," he said firmly. "You... are not going to hurt me. At least, I think that there is only a seven percent chance that you would. And if you did... panicking, or becoming unsettled, would hardly do me any good. I have seen what you can carry, the amounts of apparent pain you can withstand without even noticing, and evidence that you can dismantle a cougar with your bare hands... really, what chance would I stand, if you decided to do me harm?" he smiled palely, obviously trying to keep that scenario from his mind as completely as possible.

Biting his laughter painfully back, somewhat mortified that his reaction had been like that to something actually grotesque, he focused his attention on her words, trying to keep his eyes from straying back to the place her arm should have been firmly fixed. He was starting to piece things together on his own... so far, everything except Laura's continued "existence," as she put it, could only mean one thing. His deduction was not unrewarded; she revealed, in short order, the truth, and then considerately paused to allow him to absorb the information. During this time, L continued to take in her arm, trying to see her appearance anew through the spectrum of enlightenment.

"It's... true that undeath does not fit into that scheme..." he said slowly, "but it almost makes me feel better. It makes more sense than anything another explanation might, and based on what I've observed so far, it's actually reassuring. Logical." He longed to ask questions about how she continued to move about and speak, but decided to delay them until his mind had fully absorbed the revelation that he was talking to a dead woman.

"We should really re-attach your arm, even if you can do without it, though," L said, standing and creeping around to the back of the counter. He picked around near the cash register, finding a few paperclips, rubber bands, and a fairly heavy-duty stapler. Bringing them back towards Laura, he glanced up expectantly, as if awaiting signs of approval or rejection. It was his way of reacting to the impossible and unbelievable: getting busy. Working hard. Accepting new logic and going by what it dictated according to the proof he was shown.

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spitandviolets
2009-04-12 08:30 pm UTC (link)

"Seven percent, huh?" she asked, watching him. A lopsided smile crossed her lips. "That's amazing, being able to come up with percentages in your head like that. I never was very good with numbers. I suppose that's why I never became much more than a travel agent in the middle of Indiana. Not many people taking trips from Indiana, especially Eagle Point. Lots of poor people. Lots of middle class people, which is worse. They don't want to go anywhere in anything other than a car. Tends to put a damper on business."

"You've got a point, though, that you couldn't do anything to stop me if I felt inclined to harm you. I've got superhuman speed, superhuman strength. I can kill a cougar, by myself, and this," she wiggle her stump a little, the fingers on the severed arm twitching slightly, "is all I've got to show for it. If I wanted to kill a human being, it would take absolutely nothing for me to do so. I have, in the past, snapped the necks of two grown men, but not just men, behemoths among men, guards, trained to be fighters. They were afraid of me. Can you imagine being afraid of me? I am only a woman, taller than most and shapelier than most, but not really more remarkable than most. But they looked at me as if I was the Grim Reaper himself, their worst nightmare made flesh, before the light faded from their eyes."

Laura watched him busy himself. He was right; an arm was not 100% necessary, but it did help, and it would work no matter how crudely reattached it was. She looked up at him and nodded. For someone who had just accepted that a woman could go on walking after death, he was reacting remarkably well. Taking off her cardigan and sliding her tanktop straps down, Laura held the black fabric against her chest. She looked up to him, seemingly unbothered by the fact that his choice of surgical instruments seemingly made better office supplies. Laura could not help but find some sort of black humor in the situation. What had her life been to degenerate to this point, where her left arm had to be put back on via paperclips, rubber bands, and a stapler?

She nodded at him with a shrug that made her bad shoulder ooze formaldehyde. Noticing, she reached over and wiped it off. "Sorry," she mumbled. "You're right. We should put it back on. That way, if anyone less reasonable than you comes along, I'll be able to at least pretend that it's broken at worst. Humans, and things that aren't human but have their sensibilities, don't react well to missing limbs." A pause. "Were you a doctor where you came from? A fair trade, since you know I was a travel agent."

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inmyownworld
2009-04-15 06:46 pm UTC (link)

"Anyone can toss out numbers... you do not even know if they are accurate," L said shyly and fairly, looking at the ground. Though, his numbers always were... which meant that if he did care to lie, back in his world, at least, he would likely be accepted at face value. There were definitely things about being L that he missed, there was no doubt about that. However, he knew that he could attain a similar level of influence in time. He had started with nothing before, after all, and built a hell of a career out of his savant skills.

He fidgeted slightly, Laura's blunt talk of being able to harm him so easily. He definitely could imagine being afraid of her at this point, he thought to himself. Knowing what he knew, it was foolish not to be, wasn't it? Why did death seem to stalk L, from his childhood and countless violent crimes to that fright Beyond Birthday, to the shinigami to a woman who was, apparently, death incarnate?

It was an odd thing to admit, but... it somewhat excited L, in a way he couldn't quite articulate. He averted his eyes, suddenly timid and bashful, as Laura lowered the strap of her tank top so he could see her shoulder more clearly in the dim light. He ducked his head obligingly when she apologized for the formaldehyde leak, as if to shrug off the imagined transgression and say that it didn't matter so much. Touching her like she was the most fragile thing on earth, he tried to line up the lines of flesh, bone and muscle, first banding them together before hesitantly taking up the stapler. "No... not a doctor..." he admitted, a touch of guilt to his voice. "I'm... I was..." he paused, before deciding that he might tell part of the truth, at least. "I was a detective. I saw all sorts of things... autopsies... this does not particularly bother me." his words were firm and strongly stated, but he started and flinched when the first staple went into Laura's shoulder with a sickening CHUNK. Even if she couldn't feel pain, it sounded excruciating and made his insides squirm.

"S-sorry..."

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spitandviolets
2009-04-26 12:28 pm UTC (link)

"No, I don't know if the numbers are accurate," Laura replied absently. It was a true statement, and she had a morbid fondness for truths. "However, Ryuzaki, you have given me no reason to believe that they are not. I do not know why. It is one of the mysteries of the dead, that sense that someone would never tell a lie without good reason. For reasons unknown to me, or reasons that I simply do not understand, I trust you." There was something that almost sparkled in those dull, blank, dark eyes. It was a flicker of life, of soul, of spirit, of something that transcended the living and the dead.

If Laura Moon had known that L felt as if death stalked him, she would have departed at once. It was never her intention to make the living feel uncomfortable, and when she did, even on accident, it was a bit of an issue. People only noticed the negative when they felt threatened, and it was in those moments that she could not pass for human. She haded simply making it, simply squeezing by, but she hated more the inability to pass for human. She just wanted people to speak to her. That, perhaps, was why she had not sensed L's discomfort in the past few moments: she wanted to believe. She wanted, in what was left of her heart, that odd empty spot that enabled her to still have desires, even if they were the echoes of a life lived long ago, to believe that he did not think her status, that she was dead, as odd or negative.

Additionally, had L explained Shinigami to him, she probably would have asked how she was much different. They were dead, yet not dead, and they were afraid of dying the eternal death. That, in truth, was what Laura was, how Laura felt. They seemed to follow around a human, someone who was alive, and they had the power, if they chose to be compassionate, to protect the person that they were following. Perhaps the only differences were that Laura did not have a Death Note and that she would not die if she tried to defend the person that she was following. She had been Shadow's shinigami; now she was lost, somewhere in limbo, looking for someone else to protect, to follow, to help.

Unfortunately for L, his averted gaze had not gone unnoticed, and she had smirked. It was pale, serene, somewhat beautiful. "And here I thought that you were immune to the disappointingly disgusting state of my arm. I apologize. Such graces elude me of late. I will dress it as soon as possible." Fortunately, it had gone misunderstood; she thought that he was queasy, not excited. If she'd know that he was even remotely interested in the slide of her strap down her arm, it probably would have been a shock that would have surprised even her. No one had thought of her as attractive in a long time, especially since she was dead. Jay was an exception, but he didn't know that she was a woman in the past tense.

"A detective? That's fascinating. I haven't even had a run in with a police officer since I was in high school; I've never met a detective." A pause. "You've seen autopsies, I've been through one. What a team, huh?" She laughed. Morbid ironies were her favorite.

The reverent way that he touched her would have made her flush if she had the ability to. It was so kind, so gentle. She shifted slightly and swallowed, offering him a small smile. She made no mention that the bone wasn't lined up very well; it was hard to align a bone, and this was as good a fix as any. When he put the stapler against her arm, she looked up at him, offering as kind an expression as she could, and when the metal entered her flesh she did not even flinch, let alone blink.

"Don't be," she murmured, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. "I appreciate it. I don't think that I would be able to do it myself. You're doing fine. Can you continue? If not, I understand."

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