....why? Just why am I doing another multi-chapter story? NYEH. T.T
Another OOC story. L is a psychologist, B is the patient. I'll have lots of fun with this later on.
As always, I will kill for reviews. Literally. I'll start with mangaluver34 and The Zaniac. Although since mangaluver is my editor so... I'll start with The Zaniac.
The Price of Normalcy
Chapter 1 - Toxic
The office was typical of the profession. The smell of roses wafted pleasantly through the room, complimenting the soft colors that made up the space… if it was possible for soft colors to be garish, this room defined the standard. Two large, comfortable chairs, striped with a light orange and an almost pink red, a table with a vase of flowers in it, groping upward toward the slowly spinning bronzily wooden fan, white carpet that seemed more like an afterthought than an integral part to the room. An out of place water cooler stood melancholyin the corner next to the open window, a soft breeze coming in from outside, but with that pleasantry came the inevitable sounds of the city; the occasional siren, the constant drone of cars and many people talking at once, and every so often a shout or yell that rose above the melted chaos of noise.
The room did nothing to reflect the state of mind of its owner; was the only name on any record of him. Just Lawliet. Whether he even had a last name was a mystery to all except perhaps the Lawliet himself; and even he might not know.
He was the definition of insane, the incarnation of instability. At least when gauged by the majority's standards.
He spent most of his life either shut away in his office with his patients or in his quaint cottage- like house near the waterfront, never taking any inkling of interest in any sort of public events whatsoever. So many people in his life had urged him to be a lawyer… his intellect was well known around the region by the time he was fifteen, graduating high school the next year, scoring nearly perfect on every subject save one… science. In that, his grades were average, so for him, low, but mostly because he found fallacies in the textbooks and refused to confine himself to the answers the teachers had insisted had to be right, because, after all, it was a textbook. He had only ever had one science teacher who had ever truly understood his brilliance.
When he exited high school, he never went to college; didn't think it was necessary to start off by dipping his toes into the proverbial pool of life. Instead, he dove straight in, headfirst, without a degree, and became a physiologist.
It is quite unnecessary to explain how hard it was to actually build the business up to anything, and quite unnecessary to explain how amazingly successful he was at his career despite having no degree. Suffice it to say that now he easily making one hundred grand a month.
Or could be.
Unlike most, he pursued his profession for enjoyment rather than any sort of material gain, which was why his costs were fairly low and he was more than willing to adjust the payment if necessary. He viewed all his patients as experiments, and found it almost unjust that they were offering themselves to him but they were the ones paying.
Lawliet shifted in his chair, his feet sinking into the cushion, hands rested on his knees. Another of his quirks. Sitting position. He often said that if he didn't sit like a mentally handicapped idiot (at least, he assumed that's how his patients saw it) his deductive abilities would drop by forty percent… he didn't actually believe that, seeing how there was no scientific evidence saying that such a thing was even possible unless the person actually believed it was possible… which he didn't… but tossing out such a statement and watching reactions could tell Lawliet a lot about a person.
His next patient was quite an interesting case… a man with a name that Lawliet didn't think for a second was actually real. He had given very little insight into his problem beforehand, merely expressing that it was imperative that he see him and no other psychologist for his problems.
Perhaps that this individual was so adamant about seeing him should have bother Lawliet more than it actually did, but truthfully, it didn't bother him so much as make him curious. Lawliet only took cases which were particularly interesting, and while this did have a devastating effect on his paycheck, seeing as how the supply of nuts in the world was almost despairingly low, it didn't have so much of an effect that he couldn't clothe and feed himself. And admittedly, he was doing much more than just clothing and feeding himself.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason Lawliet had agreed to see the man. His vague statements about someone he admired not wanting him back and clipped, enigmatic snippets about life, death and the realms in between, tied together with an odd thread of mystery… the aura of his voice alone was enough to send excited shivers up the physiologist's spine.
And today was the day he'd get to see the owner of the voice.
Lawliet's loose white shirt rippled slightly in the breeze from the outside, his hair also being caressed by the invisible fingers. He was pacing, hunched over in his normal hunched stance, his bare feet sliding quietly across the white carpet. His attire wasn't what one would expect of a physiologist… but after one managed to get past the abnormalcy of it all, most found the casual dress almost refreshing; humans detested boundaries and stiffness, suits and ties tended to enhance a stiff formality that inevitably came with boundaries. Which is why Lawliet always insisted his patients come dressed casually.
Pacing… since when did he pace anyway?
The quiet sound of the doorknob turning was enough to make the psychologists's head turn rapidly, enough to make his heart skip a beat. …he's early.
The patient… client… walked in with a lollipop in his mouth and an almost sadistic smirk.
But it wasn't his countenance nor the candy in his mouth that made the famous psychologist stare. Lawliet himself rarely ate anything besides sweets, but despite that he was of nearly anorexic weight.
What caught Lawliet's eye was the man himself.
Loose, white three-quarters shirt, baggy, faded jeans, mussed and wild black hair. A carbon copy of Lawliet stood directly across from the real thing. The only truly visible difference was the man's face; his heavier jaw line, his eyes, which drilled into you with a piercing stare, quite unlike the original's stare, which seemed to gently peel away your layers until he reached your troubled core, and his mouth's harsh, cynical, sadistic curve.
"Hello, Lawliet. Beyond Birthday." The man held out a delicate, pale hand, disturbingly similar to Lawliet's own.
"Greetings… mind if I call you Beyond?" His hand closed around Beyond's. It was soft and warm, unlike the clammy coldness he had expected to feel.
A true grin split the man's face, interrupted by the stick that protruded from his mouth. He pushed the sucker to one side of his mouth and replied, "That's quite all right, Lawli." Lawliet dropped his client's hand.
The name had sent shivers up his spine. …how could he know….? "I will have to ask you not call me that."
"Why not? I find the name… endearing? You do not wish to be endeared?" A slight chuckle escaped from the man's pink, broken lips, his tongue circling and massaging the sucker which was still stuck in his mouth. He lifted his hand and removed the sucker from his mouth, and started licking it with unnecessary vigor, almost teasingly.
It was amazing how annoying that sucker was.
"By a stranger, no."
"Ah Lawli, surely we're not strangers? We talked over the phone, didn't we?"
"For all of fifteen minutes."
Crack. Beyond took a bite from the sucker. "Define strangers."
"One whose true intentions and motives are not known to at least some extent."
"But you, being a psychologist… you can define a person from their response to a single question or action. So I suppose no one is a stranger to you?"
"I shall rephrase my answer, then. One who tries to hide their true intentions and motives."
"So basically, anyone who doesn't trust you is a stranger?"
"Yes. I do not think it matters how long you've known a person, if they try to hide all of themselves from you, they are strangers." The talk was fairly arbitrary, but that was not by accident; it was by design, perhaps because of both of their intentions. Lawliet liked to talk to their clients first about unrelated topics, gauge how they react, whether or not they are truly 'insane'… then they can delve into the personal and try to unearth the ugliness hidden in every shrouded heart.
"Then if I don't try to hide my true intentions from you, you won't consider me a stranger?" Beyond also had bare feet… his soles made no sound on the white carpet as he took a few steps toward him.
On instinct, the psychologist backed away. He loathed close contact; whenever someone purposely headed toward him he was immediately wary. "…I wouldn't. That would mean that you trust me. Under that pretense, I would assume you know me well enough to trust me, and since we've barely known each other, I doubt you would ever…"
"Always so logical… assuming things will fit neatly into your box." The next step took Beyond a few inches away from Lawliet. The psychologist tried to back up, but his leg hit the table, his back brushing against the groping flowers. He felt his face go red when the man's hand came up and stroked his cheek with the back of his knuckle. What was he thinking?
"I'm one thing that won't fit into your box, Lawli." Lawliet could smell Beyond's breath as it washed gently over his face. It was sweet and metallic… like blood. The man took the sucker out of his mouth, still not backing up from the psychologist, and held it out to him. "Taste it."
Some strange compulsion told Lawliet to take the sucker and do what was asked of him; another compulsion told him to shove the sucker back down the madman's throat. He obeyed the first one. After tasting it he immediately recoiled in disgust, managing to slip away from the man, the sucker falling to the ground. "That's…"
"Blood. Yes. Made it myself. I used some of my own crimson, so don't worry, I didn't kill anyone to get it. It was quite simple really… I'm a surgeon, so it was easy to get the equipment."
The more apprehensive Lawliet became, the more intrigued he was. A surgeon… despite all of his experience, he didn't know what to make of this man. It was more than likely that he had some sort of personal connection to Lawliet; otherwise, why would he take such a personal approach…? But what sort of connection? The man did bear an amazing resemblance to the psychologist, granted…. And what was the purpose of the sucker? A gauge?
For the moment, it seemed as if their roles had been reversed. Lawliet was putty in Beyond's hands. He was aware of it, and he hated it, but he didn't know how to change it.
…this man was toxic.