We're watching Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail at the moment. The Black Knight is on screen at this very moment.
This morning I got up, wrote a bit, and walked Cody. Upon returning, I found that my sisters had woken up! Therefore I could go play Twilight Princess! I beat the first dungeon and am currently being knocked unconscious by purple fog. Repeatedly.
I then had brautwurst for lunch with my whole family and soonafter left for my brother's soccer game. We brought Cody. Z scored once and assisted once as well.
Pardon while I switch computers real quick, 'cause the connection wasn't working this morning and I had to type the fanfiction in a kids' only file...
It's incomplete for the moment. I may work on it tomorrow, if I can. But I have Cody duty all day. All day meaning six in the morning to ten at night. No joke.
I made up Jazz and Pandore. Jazz is actually in something else I've written, but I haven't published that anywhere.
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“He’s trying to kill L!”
The Wammy’s House cafeteria fell instantly silent at those words. All eyes swiveled to the speaker—or rather, the shouter. It was Jazz, her face red with apparent furor and her dark eyes flashing.
Sitting across from her, Pandore cast a shamefaced glance around the cafeteria. “Did you have to get everyone’s attention?” she asked quietly. The question carried in the silence.
“You’ve betrayed all of them, too,” Jazz retorted coldly. “Why shouldn’t they hear?”
“I’ve betrayed no one,” Pandore responded, clearly trying to keep her cool. “I’m allowed to believe and feel what I like. I think he’s right in a lot of what he’s trying to--”
“Kira is trying to kill L!” Jazz thundered, and the rest of the cafeteria drew a collective breath.
Did Pandore support Kira?
“Obviously, I don’t approve of that, but—” Pandore tried one last time to defend herself, but then she looked around the cafeteria. There was hostility in every stare.
Of course there would be.
She dropped her head, defeated. “Forget it,” she muttered. “Forget it.” So saying, she dumped her lunch tray and left the room.
The next day, she was gone.
Mello and Near were summoned to meet with L.
Over a plate of gingerbread cookies, he spoke to them about the Kira case, asked them for opinions. Such questions were, as always, merely a test of reasoning skill and instinct. L rarely needed help forming opinions.
Then, over the last gingerbread cookie (L had eaten them all: limbs, then body, then head), L said, “You two were in the lunch room yesterday, so presumably you know the reason for Pandore’s sudden departure.”
“She sympathized with Kira?” Mello asked for confirmation.
L thought for a moment. “Hmm… I’m not certain she would sanction that choice of words,” he said. “It is more correct to say that she could not find a part of herself that believed what Kira was doing was wrong.”
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