5th Trick - Text

[vengefulshades]

["The Manipulator" is the name on this communication.]

Pancakes. Thick, fluffy, floury, smeared with melting butter and drizzled with real maple syrup. Served with fluffy scrambled eggs and two strips of black-label bacon, cooked crispy.

Fried chicken. Crispy skin, juicy meat, subtly salty. Served with a side of mashed potatoes, homemade cream gravy, and wilted collard greens cooked with garlic.

Beer. A dark stout, complex and almost chocolate in flavor, smooth and sophisticated to sip. Accompanied by a bowl of pretzels and the smell of smoke on the guy sitting next to you at the bar.

An apple. Yellow-red-pink skin, crisp and juicy, just the perfect texture without being too hard or too mealy. Simple and refreshing.

Pork rinds. Airy and crisp, salty, spicy hot with the flavor of meat. Eaten straight out of the bag while watching sports.

Roasted sweet potato. Wrapped in wet newspaper and then in aluminum foil, then buried in a pile of burning leaves to bake. Sweet and starchy, soft and hot, the perfect snack on a cold winter's day.

[Okay... that's a nice, random list there. There isn't much indication why "The Manipulator" is posting this one.]

Come on, Imports. Give me a few more. Give me something from your world that no one else has tried before.

I'm in-between things to do, you see. All this space shuttle excitement has been useful in distracting the authorities from looking for me. So I might as well try to enjoy myself with all the extra spare time.

Plus, I figured the cops could use another word from me. It's been so long since they've even imagined I've been active. Just as clueless as the people I've possessed since then.

Ooh... I bet you didn't even notice I was there, did you?

You'd think you people would learn.


[All replies from "The Manipulator" will come through audio or text only.]

Comments

[godly]

[That spike in the Manipulator's anger would be far more jarring if not for the fact that Light's own is rising.]

That's not true; I know plenty of cops who are anything but selfish, and would do everything they could to help others. [And an "unfortunate incident"? That seems rather specific, doesn't it. And so:] Or are you too blinded by your own prejudice that you can't see that?

[vengefulshades]

Where were those cops when their buddies dragged me to jail and interrogated me to the breaking point, even though I was innocent?

Where were they when they murdered me?

[godly]

[He almost, almost hesitates at that; as angry as Light is, there's only so much he can pretend to not care for this man's opinions, his experiences. Murdered. That alone is illuminating.

But he speaks heatedly nonetheless.]

People like that -- they aren't cops. They aren't heroes. They're wolves in sheep's clothing; criminals and murderers like the rest. You weren't wronged by policemen, you were wronged by illicit individuals hiding behind that title.

But to think that's how it is, universally? That's just naive.

[vengefulshades]

Naive? You're the one who's naive.

[Yeah, too bad Yomiel's view of things is hilariously, inaccurately skewed after ten years of this.]

That police inspector, the top one in the country, the one who was pursuing me? He was the one who interrogated me.

The detective who confronted me the moment I died, who hunted me down and fired his gun at me? They all called him a hero.

They both moved on with their lives like nothing ever happened. They didn't spend five minutes worrying about what happened to me. They didn't feel guilty or remorseful. They have no idea what they destroyed when they singled me out!

[Suddenly, his tone is dark. Dark, dark and angry.]

I deserved it. My revenge. It was only right.

[godly]

[And this time, Light does pause. All this is new information to him, perhaps even insightful information, to further his understanding of what makes this Manipulator tick. It takes a fair amount of self-restraint to not just... argue back, like he can be prone to doing. But he manages it, and finally:]

What did you do?

[vengefulshades]

I made them suffer like they made me suffer.

I framed the detective for murder. He got to sit in a cell for five years and tear himself apart over it. That made him understand. He called it his karma for what happened to me.

If everything went as I planned, he should have been executed a few hours before I came to this place.

[Wow, that was casual.]

But the inspector... I dealt with him personally.

[godly]

[Again, it takes an ungodly amount of restraint for him to frown and merely say:]

Meaning what?

[vengefulshades]

The detective felt sorry, you see. Prison changed him. Made him understand what he'd done. The inspector was never so humble.

He waltzed his way up the ladder. He was always bragging about his perfect, spotless record. He always wore a perfect, spotless white coat to represent it.

I was the one stain he tried to hide.

[He laughs suddenly, shortly.]

So I put a big, red stain on that clean, white coat.

It was only fair. It was only right.

[godly]

[A "tch" escapes him, but it's anything but dismissive. It's indicitive of both irritation and an underlying sense of almost-patronization.]

Was it? There's nothing "right" about revenge. Don't make the mistake of confusing that for justice. How are you any better than the ones who wronged you?

[vengefulshades]

Don't you preach to me about whether or not it was right. It was fair. Those men stole everything from me. Absolutely everything.

I had absolutely no reason to exist. Nothing to be here for, nothing to do, nobody who cared that I was around. Revenge was the only thing I could possibly do for myself.

[godly]

And I can see it's done wonders for your anger, for your discontent. You seem so very at peace with yourself. [He doesn't bother to hide his scorn, his irony.] Truthfully, what good has revenge really done for you?

[vengefulshades]

Who cares? I can sleep better at night knowing that prancing, pompous investigator is in a drawer somewhere with a bullet in his brain.

[A beat.]

Oh, well, I could, if I could actually sleep.

[Then he laughs cynically.]

There's nothing that can fix me now. Nothing but finally finding a way to finish what those arrogant, murdering cops started all those years ago.

[godly]

[Interesting, that last bit -- while the rest, of course, is nothing short of agitating.]

You mean a death. Or rather, a non-existence.

[vengefulshades]

Precisely.

[Though there is one thing he wants to try first, once he reaches the Porter.]

[godly]

And how do your actions aid you in that goal? Or was all of that -- those most recent possessions you mentioned -- done simply because you could? Actions borne of misplaced boredom?

[vengefulshades]

Well, you don't even have proof I've actually possessed anyone else, do you? Just what I said.

And it doesn't really matter my reasons, either. I can do whatever I please until your precious cops get around to finding me.

[godly]

What you said is a step in the right direction, regardless.

And I'll make sure to have a hand in helping them, when they do.

[vengefulshades]

Oh yeah? A kid like you has big aspirations to be a scumbag cop?

[godly]

I've always desired to go into law enforcement; it's an admirable goal, hardly worthy of your criticism.

[vengefulshades]

Well if you do, take it easy on the innocent suspects and try not to get anybody killed for the sake of your ego.

That's my solid advice.

[godly]

I don't need your advice; I know the difference between right and wrong, unlike some.

[vengefulshades]

Now, that's a completely unfair thing to say. I know the difference between right and wrong.

I simply don't care what I have to do to accomplish my goals. That's all.

[godly]

Do you know what they call people like that? Sociopaths.

[vengefulshades]

Maybe so. I've changed since the day I died.

But anything that I've become is the fault of the people who killed me.

[godly]

Right. Because nothing you do now can at all be your own fault; no crime to dirty your own hands.

[If he sounds like he's being sardonic, it's probably because he is.]