Ooohh, no one has really asked me very much about this fic (mostly because very little of it has been written, I suspect).
Here's a snippet:
___________________
The nurses were friendly enough, with the exception of the older one who seemed to regard him with stern suspicion. The younger ones, both male and female, were susceptible to his affable charm, occasionally bringing him candy and treats when requested. He was known in the administrative sector of the prison as ‘John Doe’—he’d never been fingerprinted as a child, having been immediately adopted by Quillish Wammy following the events that made him an orphan—but in the treatment ward, those same nurses that catered to him indulged his whims and called him ‘Beyond’.
His injuries a year and a half earlier had been severe. Skin grafting had been a necessary treatment, having had third-degree burns over roughly sixty percent of his body, and now an even half of his face bore the patchwork crosshatching of rough, damaged skin. His ability to duplicate L’s visage perfectly would be forever disrupted. It was unfortunate, but it just meant it would be more of a challenge. He would rise to meet it, once he was out.
And he had a plan in mind, for exactly that. After, of course, he paid a visit to an old, dear friend.
One thing at a time.
He was given access to newspapers with which he kept track of recent events. Between that and television, it wasn’t hard to obtain information regarding Los Angeles-area FBI activities. Through it he even discovered there was a satellite office of the Bureau in West Covina, the nearest one to downtown LA. That was where he would look, first.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2010-06-11 05:28 pm (UTC)Here's a snippet:
___________________
The nurses were friendly enough, with the exception of the older one who seemed to regard him with stern suspicion. The younger ones, both male and female, were susceptible to his affable charm, occasionally bringing him candy and treats when requested. He was known in the administrative sector of the prison as ‘John Doe’—he’d never been fingerprinted as a child, having been immediately adopted by Quillish Wammy following the events that made him an orphan—but in the treatment ward, those same nurses that catered to him indulged his whims and called him ‘Beyond’.
His injuries a year and a half earlier had been severe. Skin grafting had been a necessary treatment, having had third-degree burns over roughly sixty percent of his body, and now an even half of his face bore the patchwork crosshatching of rough, damaged skin. His ability to duplicate L’s visage perfectly would be forever disrupted. It was unfortunate, but it just meant it would be more of a challenge. He would rise to meet it, once he was out.
And he had a plan in mind, for exactly that. After, of course, he paid a visit to an old, dear friend.
One thing at a time.
He was given access to newspapers with which he kept track of recent events. Between that and television, it wasn’t hard to obtain information regarding Los Angeles-area FBI activities. Through it he even discovered there was a satellite office of the Bureau in West Covina, the nearest one to downtown LA. That was where he would look, first.