maskormenacelogs | the lunatics are in my hall

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the lunatics are in my hall

WHO: Yuri Petrov & Will Graham
WHERE: Yuri's new place in Nonah
WHEN: Evening of January 7th
WHAT: Breaking the new apartment in with a lovely homemade dinner between friends.
WARNINGS: Discussion of murder...

Clothed in black slacks, black shoes, a dark plum shirt under a bleak gray coat, Yuri might have suspicions Will wasn't in the best of moods. After all, there wasn't a bit of plaid or animal hair to be seen on him. The change in casual clothing had nothing to do with the fact Yuri and Will had overlap in their chosen places Yuri might enjoy having as his own. He'd be rather poor at his old job if he couldn't understand a person enough to pick out what sort of personal, private spots they may appreciate owning. Much worse if he couldn't pull such a simple off when he'd come to consider that person a friend.

That wasn't what had him wrapped in bleak, touch-of-death garb, either.

Yuri probably knew what to expect for dinner even before Will took to breaking in the kitchen as Thanatos' right hand arsonist had the time to put up his belongings. Before the scent of fish and rice and peas and cornbread permeated the space, Yuri knew what he'd be dining on later. If not because Will was a fisherman through and through then because he could ask, because he could look through the brought ingredients himself. Will wasn't going to hide behind pretentious bullshit like, Never ask what's for dinner, it spoils the surprise. Nah. Honest answers about food were something anyone could get from Will.

It was homey despite the lack of this particular home being lived in. Yet. When Yuri came back around to the kitchen, he'd find that not only was Will plating that quaint dinner, but that he'd put a certain potted plant on the windowsill. The smallest plant of Yuri's collection Will had once absorbed for himself, tended to and flourishing, larger and as healthy as it had ever been. Just put out to be seen, Will having called no attention to it...other than leaving it in plain sight, curtains drawn back, the prodigal child's return understated save the fact it had returned.

"Your kitchen works just fine," Will said, not that Yuri needed the report. Not that he couldn't tell for himself. "Everything else looking good?"

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The apartment* that Will and Yuri had found was located in north Nonah. To no one's surprise, least of all Yuri's, the fair-sized single bedroom abode met every must have and did not require any sacrifice at all on the judge's part. His kitchen, dining area, and living room were of a modest size; his bedroom rather comfortable; and the office space he'd requested large enough that, if he chose, he could run a small, private practice from within. There was a full bath and even an additional washroom en suite off the office space, as well, and every room within the apartment was well lit by installed or natural lighting...

Though of course, being well into the evening, there was from the outside only a faint glow from the city's streetlights filtering in now. A glow that, despite the clean lighting within the apartment, drowned the spaces nearest the windows in a sort of soft halo of fiery yellow-orange. And Will, garbed all in black as he was, appeared a coal in the flames, an amusing thought that occurs to Yuri as he is unpacking a small box of books in the living room.

Appropriate that he should be the one preparing dinner, then—a dinner that Yuri finds both domestic and reminiscent of the time he and Will had spent fishing together.

Trailing into the kitchen with a stray recipe book in hand, he notices the plant on the window ledge and eve offers it a quiet hello before turning to Will. "That the kitchen is functional is something I can see for myself, Will. You needn't provide a report." A smile and, setting the book in the corner nearest the tiny plant, he adds, "But to answer your question, everything else looks as it should. You've been very helpful, Will, and very kind. I can't thank you enough."

Coal in the flames was in no way a new coat for Will Graham to carry. If he noted the color coordination, he made no mention of it, verbally or through body language. Just kept cooking, on his very best behavior. There would be no licking of utensils before sticking them right back in, his hands were always thoroughly washed. Despite the messier, muckier state of his mind, he was immaculately sanitary during the whole process. Yuri and he had their closeness; wasn't that sort of closeness, even so. Though he did have to suppress a smile when he caught the reunion of man and plant. How quaint.

"No problem, really," he was quick to assure, wiping the edge of the plate with a cloth before tossing it back on the counter. He grabbed them both up carefully and set them on the table, like he'd been in this kitchen a thousand times before and new every square inch by heart. He'd had enough time to adapt, and had been pleased Yuri hadn't gone the ostentatious route. He hadn't brought any wine. With his luck, he'd pick something good enough without being the perfect pairing and risk looking a fool. Like hell he was about to call up Frederick Chilton and ask, so he'd gone the easier route, opted for a large bottle of purified water. He was certain Yuri had water in his place and certain he might have brought some means to purify it, yes, but it was a bottle with a fancy bow design that felt adequate for breaking in a new home. A bottle of super special water he only had to tug out of the refrigerator, glasses waiting on the counter. He was trying, damn it, and water was essential to life. Just like the heat of a fire on a cold, miserable night. "Had a rather eventful past couple of weeks. Kept my mind off it. Just as helpful to you as it was to me."

Water was the essence of life, and as such, was a far superior choice than any alcoholic beverage Will could have brought to the table regardless of name, label design, or price tag. Besides, Yuri wasn't one for alcohol. He dabbled in a sip here or there on occasion, in social situations or when he was particularly tense, but his palate much preferred the cleansing qualities of water or the soothing impression of tea. And his mental state, well, that preferred just about anything that didn't remind him of his father.

So water was just fine. Better than fine, even.

After acquiring some napkins from the kitchen and laying them at each of their place settings on the table, Yuri takes a seat. It's not the delightful meal before him that holds his attention, however. Rather, the man across from him at the table who prepared everything.

Will has always had something of a somber air about him, but tonight his disposition seems noticeably darker, and not only for his choice of attire. "An accurate assessment, to be sure. Though I wonder if the past couple weeks was more grueling for you than for me? I managed to steer clear of Heropa, the source of eventfulness for me stemming from another place entirely, but what of you, Will? Were you caught up in that nightmarish incident?"

The man across from him who seemed to be making quick note of everything. He'd sat but he wasn't quite settled yet—Yuri may easily recognize the appearance of someone doing a last check, intent for nothing to be forgotten. He may have also recognized it was a futile thing for Will to do, that he'd likely had fifteen mental checks already, but he was engaging in a last effort just the same.

"Sort of." His answer came a moment later than usual; the check was passed, he was satisfied. He also knew better than to be honest about what he'd done during that time, if only because Yuri didn't deserve that level of TMI. He didn't deserve to hear that Will had spent most of it distracting April in ways only he could. "Nobody was hurt or caught up in that particular mess, thankfully. We all pulled through fine. Abigail vanished at the end of December...that and the holiday stress was worse than the jungle fever, on our end."

They have to get a few bites in before Will drops serious bombs, all right. That's just basic etiquette. If Will picks up his utensils and goes to town on slicing up some fish then the process is hurried along.

"Where'd your eventfulness come from?"

If Yuri thinks anything of Will's delayed response, anything at all of the way he appears to be considering the table's setting so intently when Will needn't worry about impressing him, it's that the other man must require a distraction even now. Perhaps due to Abigail's disappearance? Yuri knows the young girl won't return home to find a happy ending, after all. For someone like Will, someone who clearly feels responsible for her, perhaps even considers himself a surrogate father of sorts, having to deal with her unexpected departure yet again must be very difficult.

There were some things that simply did not get any easier with time or repetition.

"I'm sorry to hear Ms. Hobbs has left us," Yuri says. He'd never been certain of Abigail's opinion of him, had always suspected that she could sense something off about him and that perhaps because of that she didn't care for him. But that didn't mean he thought ill of the girl. She was bright, and when she smiled, even brighter. There was, ultimately, very little to dislike about Abigail Hobbs.

As he cuts into his fish, Yuri is inclined to ask Will what 'holiday stress' entails, but as the other man didn't volunteer the information himself, he decides not to press for details. Not now, at least.

"Myself, I was preoccupied with something of a grim discovery and...an unexpected job offer."

Which house hunting had adequately distracted him from worrying over for a time. But now here they both are, their worried states both exposed, even if the nature of each remains yet unclear.

Will takes the condolences with a short nod, acknowledgement he's heard them and is quite content to leave the topic there if Yuri would be so kind.

Grim? Oh God. Will pauses with his glass to his lips, eyebrow raised, intrigued but also slightly worried. What could be grim to Yuri Petrov? Did he find a particularly terrible sinner? Oh God, was there someone out there making silo pictures with stitched-together bodies? Beehives in human brains? Women in horses, shit, what could be so terrible that Yuri would classify it as grim? The man burned people alive, for fuck's sake, it had to be brutal.

There is some hesitation when he lowers his glass, though easily played off as not being sure which part to address first. Both are of interest, both skew to Will's twisted area of expertise...

"Those being...what, exactly?"

Just go for both. Both is good.

In all the imPort cities, there is but one person who would show the judge that same courtesy that is expected of him now. So, it is only for Will that Yuri would be so kind, politely abandoning the topic of Abigail Hobbs in favor of discussing the origins of his own unrest.

Fortunately for them both, those origins aren't quite as gruesome as Will imagines, though the former is certainly no less difficult for Yuri to address.

He deliberates which topic to broach first as he takes a bite of the dinner Will prepared and a sip of the water served with it. The chronological order in which the events occurred makes the most sense, for some of his concerns about the latter are undoubtedly the result of the former. And that settles it, he supposes.

"Let me ask you a question first." He lays down his fork and meets Will's gaze. "If a man were to break into my apartment, take a knife from my kitchen and kill you with it, and I was to do nothing to prevent him from escaping nor report the incident, would that not make me an accessory to the crime? And just as responsible for your death as the culprit?"

Will puts his fork down, too, rather a mirror image. A very polite, subtle one, but the similarities in movements are undeniable. As was the crease to his forehead, the way his lips twisted. All clear signs Will was thinking. And, most importantly, ridding any bullshit responses, cutting straight through it would depend on the situation sort of answers. Yuri has a clear meaning here. It does neither of them favors if Will refuses to pick up on that, denies him equal treatment.

"I'm sure some would find it debatable, but yes. You don't have to wield a physical weapon to take life."

Cutting through the idea that Yuri may be out of commission. The idea this man could be twelve feet tall and flame-retardant. Which only puts a very vivid mental image of Will in this very kitchen, essentially being disemboweled for a second time, while Yuri watches it all, perhaps drinking from the very glass in front of him now. Perhaps smiling, perhaps frowning at the method. It's a precise and precisely unsettling image either way, and has Will shaking his head as though that will rid him of another cutthroat kitchen episode starring his near-death. As though he won't later think what Yuri would do to this hypothetical man for slaughtering Will in his kitchen. What more evidence did he need of a sinner's crime than to watch it happen?

Christ.

He tilts his head, lips twisting, asking for the rest without using his voice.

"I'm pleased you understand," Yuri says, "though I apologize for the appalling introduction to what I am about to confess."

However, given how his conversation with Kitty Jones had gone, Yuri wanted to be certain before proceeding that he was not about to become the object of someone else's unwanted sympathies. He did not wish to revisit being treated like a victim for having done precisely what he had vowed never to do: turn a blind eye to evil.

Not that Will Graham of all people would minimize Yuri's culpability—or would he? The judge stares now at the man across the table from him wondering precisely why Will is there at all. They understood one another, that seemed to be true, but what Yuri failed to grasp was how a good man like Will, a man who had sacrificed his own life even, could want to be in his company. Particularly after the selfish way he had behaved...

"Last year in January there was a man present in this world, an imPort like you and I, who possessed the ability to copy the powers of others. With the help of another imPort who is still present, he succeeded in acquiring my ability to create and control fire." Chrollo Lucilfer and Hisoka... "I was in hiding at the time, and so I chose not to divulge what happened to anyone in order to protect myself. A futile attempt that I have recently discovered resulted in the loss of innocent civilian lives. The man who copied my power was 'testing' it on them."

Appalling indeed. Troubling, too, because as Yuri spins this, Will is hit with the fact one of these particular imPorts is still around. A threat hidden right in their little community, which isn't surprising but still a cause of unease. Any uncomfortable shifting is kept inward, though; Will listens with all the movement of a gargoyle, the only life being the rise and fall of his chest and the growing hardness in his eyes.

The meal is momentarily forgotten, Will's hands still beside glass and knife. He's found something far more interesting than any well-cooked fish dinner.

"Likely more fun to test them on human beings than anything else." Seems like an apt profile to take away from that. There were other options. Plant life. Bales of hay. Abandoned animals. But humans? That spoke to a specific sort of individual. No wonder Yuri wasn't pleased. His power hadn't just been taken, it had been taken by the type of sinner he specialized in. And now that sinner was gone. Where was the justice for anyone? "What do you consider your options?"

There is never a bad time to discuss this. The dinner table is just the most ideal spot.

"I don't believe that entertainment was the aim of the man who took my powers, but his partner...I'm certain that was his primary motive." Chrollo Lucilfer had never struck Yuri as someone who pursued slaughter strictly as a means to pass the time. He was as cold as he was ruthless, but he had demonstrated during their brief conversations an astute mind given to pondering reason. An interesting individual whom Yuri wouldn't have minded being given more time to understand...

But he was also an adult and completely responsible for the decisions he'd made, whatever influence Hisoka'd had upon him. What he had done with Lunatic's flames was unforgivable. Whatever his motives, innocent lives were sacrificed as a result. No good had come of those deaths, and thus the act was not only an offense, but evil.

And there was only one true way to handle the evil in the world...

"I consider my options exasperating, Will." He sits forward and takes another sip of his water before idly rubbing at his temple with his free hand. "I can do the law-abiding thing and turn the man remaining over to the government, but he has been incarcerated here before, he has proven already that being locked away is not enough of a deterrent to keep him from a life of crime. Or I can do what it is I do best in situations like this: become Lunatic. Except this individual has defeated me before, and even if I were to kill him, he would resurrect in a matter of hours or days encouraged for the challenge."

Will doesn't quite frown, but the expression is similar enough. The more he hears, the more he can imagine very vividly how exasperating those options are. Even if this man hadn't proven a life of crime was his thing, would Yuri be believed? Would he have to bring more evidence because of who he was, despite this sadist having been in trouble before? Was there a point to attempting the law-abiding thing or would it further solidify the last option as the only one Yuri should take? The only one he could take?

"That isn't necessarily true. I've known people who died here and never returned. Presumably, they went home."

Careful, each word weighed down with the gravity of the situation at hand. Wouldn't do either of them good if Will seemed to be treating this any other way. If he seemed to be encouraging the new becoming of Lunatic.

"If he is aware you know all this, he may already be encouraged for a challenge. Just waiting for you to show up. To bring his atonement. A round two. Is he aware? Did he...is he how you found out in the first place?"

"He's well aware, yes."

Had recently tried his hand at appealing to Yuri's sense of justice in what the judge presumes was an attempt to provoke an attack. And the attempt had very nearly been a success, too. Yuri had almost succumbed to the dark feeling of rage that lived within him, but that was not his way. To carry out his idea of justice, he could only obey the dispassionate voice of Thanatos, not the impassioned emotions of a flawed and desperate man.

"I called him to conference and he divulged this information readily. A dishonest man, I would have thought him lying if I could think of any reason for him to do so, but only the truth would have stood a chance at giving him what he wanted most." He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to meet Will's. Hard eyes not unlike his own. The man behind them just as willing to do what was necessary. Just as much a killer in his own right. "He will not stop. He likens the weak to ants, considers them beneath him and their lives worthless. Evil the likes of that does not deserve a place in this world or any other. It should be extinguished."

Ants, ah. Animal symbolism. Will's mind runs to numerous ways to dispose of a man with such ideas. Transform him into an ant, smother him with them. Fire ants of course; he knows who he's with. He knows that's not Yuri's style, either, but he can't help where his imagination goes. A shame those ants won't rise up and take care of the problem on their own. That would be the most fitting outcome.

"What else has he done?" He tilts his head up as he asks, the apt pupil craving more information than is in his books, than the professor gave out during the lecture. "You say he won't stop. He must have been doing evil before this, evil he's continued on happily. What brand of evil does he excel it, to stand on his pedestal above all those ants?"

For the first time since the discussion turned for the less appetizing, Will lifts his utensils back up. He keeps his eyes and focus on Yuri, of course, but nobody likes cold fish. He's completely capable of eating and speaking about the most terrible of topics. He's sure Yuri is, too. Perhaps he just needs a nudge to show that hard eyes don't come without a harder stomach.

Unlike Will's greatest adversary, Yuri possesses a remarkably small stomach. It is without question strong as steel, but for its size, he isn't in near as much a hurry to pick up his utensils and resume the consumption of their meal. It is only to be polite, to keep from being wasteful of Will's time and the food that was prepared, that he follows suit at all, cutting into the fish on his plate and thoughtfully chewing a mouthful before he responds.

"He has an appetite for murder," Yuri answers at last, "the very same evil that I have sworn to stand against."

There was no telling for certain how many lives Hisoka had taken on his own, how many lives he would have required to have polished his methods to so fine an art, but all it took was one to be deserving of the moon's retribution, of a purifying death by fire.

In days to come, should anyone find out about this (this continued relationship, not this dinner), Will can at least say with full sincerity and honesty that Yuri Petrov is nothing if not polite. Civil. And judging by the conversation, more rational than some might give him credit for. A man who dresses up and takes on the name Lunatic, burning "sinners" alive and claiming to hear the voice of Thanatos? Must be out of his mind completely. He calls himself a lunatic, after all! It was always easier and more comfortable to buy into such lines of thought. But Will knew differently. Thought differently.

Not solely because Yuri had spared him from the fire. That didn't hurt his cause, though.

"That's unfortunate." His immediate verdict as Will took a sip of his water, buying himself a bit of time to figure out his phrasing. Not that he felt such a tactic was necessary with Yuri, but...it was right there. They were at dinner. Sensible move. Sensible thing to speak to for the moment. "If what you do best in situations like these is become Lunatic...perhaps all that needs to happen is for Lunatic to become. More."

He looks back up, fingers sliding into place next to his plate. Back to square one, the starting point, like he'd only just sat down.

"This world is filled with sinners." One sits across from Yuri now, even. "Putting one off until you know, with complete certainty, what to do about him...it's not impossible, is it?"

Leave the headache for later, follow what doesn't cause distress, take time to sort it through. And hey! Maybe it'll give this fellow time to get comfortable, think his atonement will never come, and Lunatic will catch him in the act. With evidence to give him over to the authorities or do his best to take him down then and there. Procrastination and biding one's time are two separate things.

More. The word echoes like a gunshot in Yuri's thoughts. What did it mean? Was it possible for Lunatic to become more? For him to become something greater?

And even if it was...

"In the meantime," Yuri articulates, "the individual in question will continue his senseless bloodshed. The number of innocent lives that will be forfeit due to my inaction is unforeseeable—but even one is too many." But what choice did he have? Will made a valid point. There were still other sinners in this world left to be dealt with. Ignoring them in favor a problem he had not yet figured out a solution for made little sense.

"I suppose that brings us to the other matter." The job offer. One Yuri seems no less enthusiastic about discussing, though it's worth noting that he seems less grim now than he had moments earlier. Perhaps for Will's suggestion? And how it might be implemented here. Potentially, at least. "Major General Olivier Armstrong of RISE has offered me a position."

Tentative, he's certain. Resting entirely upon the condition that he follow Olivier's orders. But he would have more freedom with her to carry out his own idea of justice than he would with the woman as his enemy.

"Lunatic—in league with heroes." He takes up his glass and smiles bitterly. "It's laughable, isn't it? And yet I'm considering that woman's proposition all the same."

A bitter smile that gains a raised eyebrow from Will, meal going ignored as he digests this. The job offer isn't laughable, judging by his face. He can see numerous reasons for it, and he can see the darkest ones quite clearly. Yuri could become a scapegoat. Worse than that, if it was felt he may "lash out" soon, how easily they could attempt to frame him, how easily it would be swallowed he'd just gone farther than they ever intended. Perhaps that was projection on his end, but had this place ever proved itself to be truly on a more moral level than Baltimore? No. As much as he had a family and a sense of belonging here, this place contained a similar cesspool. Which helped with his whole sense of belonging...

But he didn't want anyone to go through the same sort of shit he had, much less Yuri. He was a smart man, though. He had likely gone over worst and best case scenarios as soon as the offer happened. He had likely seen the good, the bad, the ugly, the full scope of the picture. Despite the twist in Will's stomach at the idea of Yuri Petrov being used, how much he disliked such an idea, he had seen enough of him to know that would be a difficult task when he had time to see the path ahead. When he wasn't blindsided. Will wouldn't be giving him too much of anything new, only bitterness to match his smile. Only verbal confirmation Will felt a strain of care for the murderer of murderers that went past friendship to something more worrisome. Did Yuri really need it?

"I can see the sense to it. The offer. Why not attempt to get those perceived as a threat to work for you in an effort to keep them from working against you?"

He's not going for the low-hanging, obvious fruit here. The discussion of leashing beasts instead of giving them free rein and hoping teeth don't turn up where they're least wanted one day. He's been compared to a dog too much to go that route with someone he genuinely likes, God help him. One hand lifts to tap against the stem of his glass, eyes staring at the water inside like it has some answer, voice tinged with curiosity.

"You say considering. Considering if you'd want to do it in the first place, or considering the pros and cons and which outweighs the other?"

"A little of both."

Will is right to presume that Yuri has examined Olivier's offer from every possible angle. In fact, he's been over those angles so many times in the past few days, each time contemplating all the things that could go wrong and whether he'd forgotten to consider some scenario or another, that the well of valid possibilities has run completely dry.

"There are many risks involved in cooperating with RISE," Yuri explains, though he's confident that Will knows precisely what those risks entail without having to be told. "I've considered them all and have determined that none of them are debilitating."

Olivier wants to use him? That's fine. He wants to be able to use her, too. And if he accepts her offer, he will be able to do just that. He will once again have a legal platform upon which to stand, a stage from which he can carry out his idea of justice, or an approximation of it. And if RISE should betray him? He is not friendless or even without those among his adversaries who would defend him from any act of malfeasance. Yuri has no doubts that Will would vouch for him. Kitty Jones would also undoubtedly lend herself to his defense. And with a little convincing, despite what he's done to each of them, Kotetsu, Barnaby, and Miles Edgeworth are also people that he can turn to, people who will stop at nothing to prevent a gross miscarriage of justice from taking place. They were good people, after all. Men and women with good hearts and good intentions.

Too good to even allow someone like him to suffer for another's sins.

Debilitating. An excellent choice of words, that. It has any arguments (or what could be seen as an argument, since Will has no desire and doubts Yuri does either for an actual argument) on the tip of Will's tongue dead before they can get out, swallowed back where they came from. Yuri's already thought this through, he expected nothing less. But the way it makes it so crystal clear he's thought everything through and come to such a conclusion...

There's no point in Will chiming in with this, that, or the other. Yuri's thought of it. And decided he can handle it just fine.

So. Yuri gets a slow, barely noticeable nod before Will picks up his utensils again and goes back to the meal like nothing unusual or worrisome has been discussed. Like they've just talked shop the same as anyone else, all changing one desk job for another, dealing with a hyperactive coworker, nothing truly obscene.

"Good luck with whatever you decide to do." He means that. There's nothing superficial or polite, or bowing out of the conversation. A genuine wish, friend to friend. "Feel free to let me know. If it's something you'd wanna celebrate..." He gestures with the fork between them. "We can have another dinner."

Haha. As if Will wouldn't be delighted to make this a weekly thing (spoilers: he would).

Where are your table manners, Will? It's rude to gesture with silverware!

Not that Yuri appears to mind. At Will's suggestion, he smiles and mimics the return to their meal, sliding a bit of rice onto his fork.

"I would not celebrate my decision either way, but neither would I refuse your company."

Safer to be an island, to remain isolated and impartial so that his judgment is never clouded, his ability to punish sinners never compromised. Safer, but also very lonely. Yuri has never wanted to call someone a friend. He has never encountered anyone who understood him and accepted him, even if they should not. He'd been content to hold everyone at arm's length, to let them see only parts of himself and never all that lurked beneath his carefully crafted layers. Until Will had come along.

Will, who so perfectly (and tragically) knew him in ways no one else could for having to live alongside the monsters of his own world. For being a monster himself, cut of a similar fabric as Yuri's...albeit a little more plaid and a little less paisley.

Relinquishing this, turning it away, it would be the same as refusing sanctuary, and even in his sedate madness, Yuri is not fool enough to do that.

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the lunatics are in my hall

*a rough idea of what it looks like, with the addition of windows on the kitchen/dining wall

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