Love Acts Wildly Like Irate Electrifying Tasers

Prologue:

Butterflies

To properly tell the story of one Miss Claire Jean Lloyd, you must fully understand that this is not a fictional story. Despite the improbability of the actions that will appear to be fiction, they are all based on actual events that took place at some point in time. Please remember that there are many things in this world that are always going to be misunderstood, ignored, and declared as blasphemy. It is not expected that the person who may stumble upon this collection of writings will be able to comprehend this, but I must ask that you at least try and attempt to wrap your head around what I am about to tell you.

There are worlds that extend beyond our knowledge. Have you ever fallen into a time warp, or travelled between two black holes? Not many have. Beyond those deep, unexplored appendages in our galaxy there are worlds that exist beyond your wildest dreams; all running at various speeds. Time is different; some worlds slow, some worlds are fast—Don't ask me how I know this. I'm supposed to be the omniscient one, and no one likes to shoot the messenger before they're able to deliver, but I digress. Every book, poem, song, or letter that is said to be a work of fiction is a lie. They are, in fact, as real as the sound of a beating heart.

Stubborn and tricky, parallel universes are. In your world, right now, you may be at your computer while in another you are on your phone. You might be wearing pyjamas or you may have just gotten in from work... or in some more unfortunate cases, you may be six feet under (I apologize sincerely if this is you).

The only thing that can disrupt the course of action is an outward source, or more simplified: The Butterfly Effect.

We are all aware of the proverb "Things happen for a reason", and that is partly true; however, it cannot be overruled the theories associated with The Butterfly Effect. One mishap can throw an entire plot off course.

If a small child runs into the street after a butterfly, she may not look both ways. The oncoming semi-truck has no time to swerve, and you have a 2D child permanently stuck in cement with tire prints on her back. But lets say that butterfly was splattered onto the windshield of a car before the child even saw it. The little girl's life is safe and she is able to enjoy the chocolate ice-cream her mother had been buying at the vendor.

It might save a lot of heartache if we all stop chasing butterflies, don't you think?

Chapter One:

Butterflies in Japan

Hazel-blue eyes stared at the large splat on her windshield with great annoyance. She never washed her car, in fact she rather considered it much like a cat, sputtering and fighting her the whole way through the automatic wash to the point where she was seconds away from getting out and pushing it through the suds. Strangely enough, the '84 Ferrari ran perfectly fine everywhere else. Sure the red beauty had a few dents and the paint was rusting away, but she was Claire's little pride and joy; her baby.

It was just her luck that the largest butterfly on earth would happen to be in front of her car mere minutes after pulling out of the exit. Maybe she could take it in and try for a world record. The butterfly could probably be glued or duct taped back together.

Claire reached for the glove department, not taking her eyes off the road, and grabbed the squeegee that she always had handy. While the car had a strange aversion to water, it did like to remain bug free. She took the squeegee and steering wheel in one hand while cranking the lever to roll down her window.

That was the pain with old cars, nothing was automatic. She half expected there to be tiny hamsters running on a wheel just to power the AC. Though she had already checked, she occasionally liked to pretend. In fact she had once left them a sandwich in the car and it was reduced to crumbs the next day... of course that could have also been the bum that lived outside of her apartment.

Typically the average person would stop to think and realize that driving 80km down the freeway while hanging out the window to squeegee bug guts off of the windshield might not be the best idea. That same person might also realize that there were these things called windshield wipers made for the purpose of wiping the glass clean—that was why they were called windshield wipers. It made sense, didn't it? Sadly, Claire wasn't that kind of thinker. Which is where the first fact about our protagonist comes to light... Miss Claire Jean Lloyd did everything back asswards.

Claire had a good portion of her upper body hanging outside of the window, her tongue poking out in concentration as she somehow managed to manoeuvre the sponge and keep her eyes on the road simultaneously. It was almost clean when her cellphone rang from inside the cupholder. The sound jolted the spiky-headed brunette from her task and she slid quickly back through the window, swerving slightly on the road.

"Hi ho," she greeted cheerfully to whoever was on the other end. It hadn't occurred to her to check.

There was some rustling on the other end of plastic bags before speaking. "Are you doing anything at the moment?" the deep voice asked.

Claire looked at the splotch that was ninety percent cleaned. With pursed lips, she squeezed the blinker and fluid sprayed out and through her open window. "AAARGH!" The phone was thrown into the passenger seat as she rolled up the window as fast as she could, which wasn't very, to avoid getting any more wet. Seeing the windshield finally free of butterfly residue pleased her.

A few minutes passed before she was made aware of the small buzzing of her phone and cursed. "Shit, man. I forgot you were on the phone."

Her roommate, Teddy, sighed. "Yeah, I noticed. What were you doing?"

"I was getting butterfly intestines off of my windshield. Should've seen it. It's huge! ...or it was before it went and imploded," she finished with a sympathetic glance to where the poor, unfortunate insect had landed.

"Right, well I was just going to ask if you could swing by the store on your way back. Of all things I forgot to pick up my fags."

Claire switched lanes and pulled into the nearest filling station. "No problem. I'll be there in a few," she replied as she exited the car.

A breath of relief flowed into her ear. "Thanks mate. You can just add the extra money to my rent for this month."

With a wave of her hand, she brushed off the offer despite the fact that he couldn't even see her. Claire was one of those people who talked animatedly with her hands. "No worries. Do you have everything ready for tonight?" She covered the speaker to request Teddy's brand and picked up the small box with a slight grimace and wondered who on earth came up with the idea of inhaling smoke.

Teddy rattled on excitedly from the other end as he told her about the goodies he'd picked up on the booze run. The excitement quickly rubbed off on her, and an excited Claire meant a somewhat hyper Claire. By the time she was in front of the apartment, she was shaking anxiously like a kid on a sugar high. There were many small things in life that should be appreciated, and drunken gaming simply wasn't appreciated enough in her opinion.

"Are you still there?" Teddy asked. Claire blinked.

"Why don't you look out the window and see?"

She waved happily as Teddy's head poked out the window, his hair was actually pulled back into a ponytail for once and it made him seem even prettier for some reason. Claire could remember a time when she had been intimidated by living with a man who visually looked like a better woman than herself. It hadn't lasted long. Despite his looks, Teddy was very masculine in personality. The blond rolled his eyes and opened the front door for her.

When the first person cancelled and said they couldn't make it, Claire wasn't fazed in the slightest. She had already consumed a few pre-party shots and paid more attention to the action on the television screen. When she threw her phone aside, she couldn't even remember which of her friends had cancelled; however, by the time two hours had passed, she was re-evaluating her small circle of friends. It was kind of sad that none of them wanted to show up, but at least she had Teddy. The fact that he lived there was ignored.

The clock chimed and Claire paused the game. "This calls fer'a sot... s'hot... shot!" she cried triumphantly pumping her fist in the air, then giggled, her face flushing from the sheer amount of alcohol in her blood. It had become a game to her. For every hour that no one came, she would take a shot.

Teddy rose from the beanbag chair with little trouble and shuffled across the room. He looked at his friend and hovered the bottle over the glass wondering if he should continue to encourage her to drink any more. He had stopped drinking much earlier. He also debated on whether or not it was a good idea to bring up the lack of party guests.

The whole event had been Claire's idea; a pre-birthday party since her's landed in the middle of the week. The petite girl didn't seem to give a rats arse about the lack of people who showed up. But something about it just seemed cruel to him, but of course, Claire the optimist probably figured they'd reschedule for another weekend.

Eventually the buzz in his brain battered away the feelings that were arguing within him and he passed off the amber liquid to the brunette, who was more like a little sister than anything else. He ruffled her short spiky hair while she knocked the alcohol back like it was water. Sighing, Teddy flopped down into the lime-green chair.

Claire's head tilted to the side as if it were to heavy to keep up. Her eye caught brooding green eyes. "S'top poutin', Teddy. Yer s'not that bad," she slurred in attempt to be encouraging.

Teddy sent her a muted smile as he lit a cigarette and picked up his controller again. "I'm not bad. I just chose the wrong character. Lets go back to the selection screen and I'll show you my skills."

Had she been less intoxicated, Claire might have realized that Teddy's character had stopped responding ages ago. Instead she lugged him through dungeon after dungeon while cursing at him every time his character needed to be resurrected. It should have been odd that her normally talkative roommate said nothing through all of this, especially when she also died—which happened quite often, but Claire was so involved with the boss she hadn't looked over yet. If she had, she would have noticed the blonde snoring quietly with a line of drool hanging out of his mouth.

The clock chimed midnight and again the game was paused. "Thiiisss calls fer'a—Teddy?" Her bottom lip jutted out when she finally noticed. "How lame!" She had wasted so much time resurrecting a sleeping character when she could've kicked him out and lowered the difficulty level!

The controller was tossed beside her and she rose on unsteady feet to wobble over to her friend like an baby learning to walk. "Oi, Teddy?" she sang, poking him for good measure and he mumbled something incoherent. Claire put her hands on her hips and stared for a moment, wondering what she should do. A lightbulb flashed over her head and the corner of her lip rose into a dopey, booze-heavy smirk.

She stumbled around from room to room, occasionally walking into a wall or tripping over various things, and grabbed the necessary supplies—which wasn't much, but she couldn't remember when the last time she needed glue was and therefore had no idea where it was kept. An evil chuckle burbled through her lips as she collapsed on the floor, ungracefully, and began to squirt the white, sloppy substance on the cling wrap. The tricky part was lifting Teddy's feet, but lucky for her, he wasn't that light of a sleeper. If she were lucky, her mate would sleep until morning. She sincerely hoped she would be awake to admire her handy work, but if she heard it, that would be satisfying enough.

It took Claire a few tries to make it to her bed. Foreign objects just seemed to jump into her path like sneaky little ninjas trying to defeat her, and one very nearly did as she stepped on one of her figures that had fallen from her side table. The hard plastic dug into her foot as she stepped right on top of it. She let out a half-moan, half-laugh and fell to her bed dramatically while holding her throbbing foot.

The little L action figure seemed to look up at her from the floor as if trying to figure her out. Claire picked it up with a glare. "T'was rude, L," she scolded and in her drunken, delusional state, she could almost hear the response. Is it not rude to step on people as well?

She picked up the Light figure that had also been knocked over and held the two side by side.

"Yeeer Kira!" she whispered in her best L voice—which wasn't very good at all—shaking the detective all the while.

The Light figure shook before hissing with a slight hiccup, "I'm s'not Kira."

Claire grinned. "S'okay. I'mma gonna—Ikin protect ya!" The Light figured slipped through her fingers and she could have sworn she saw the teen's eyes widen in surprise at the betrayal. "Oh noooo," she croaked in a dispassionate monotone as he hit the carpet. "Splat..."

"Oh Claire-bear, yeere my best hero. Ya saved t'day!" L said uncharacteristicly.

The brunette on the bed flashed her pearly whites and flexed her thin arms. "I gotcha, love. Allin'a day's werk," she slurred and looked at him with the most serious gaze she could muster.

"I really, really wish I could've saved ya. Tha' series was rubbish after ya left." Her eyelids felt like they were made of magnets; she couldn't resist the pull any longer and fell backwards.

Where the bed should have caught her back, there was no thump of her body hitting the mattress, or the feel of the soft patchwork quilt her grandmother had made for her years before she passed. This would scare many people, but thankfully Claire was in a liquor induced coma and had no plans to wake for quite some time.

When she did wake many hours later, it was with a dull pounding head that felt like an invisible heard of elephants had decided to play football inside her brain. She thanked her lucky stars that her hangovers never lasted too long and nestled closer into her pillow trying to go back to sleep, but the smell that drifted through her nose made her already queasy stomach churn. Trying to calm it, she took a deep breath.

Big mistake.

Rotten food infiltrated her senses an she barely had enough time to turn over before her stomach emptied with a splat on the pavement.

Pavement?

Her eyes widened in surprise as she sat up and scouted her surroundings, eventually landing on the 'bed' she had found herself cradled in. Sadly, it was not a bed, but a group of trash bags. It was then that she felt the musty banana rind that had taken residence on the top of her head, flattening down her hair like a petite, little hat. With a shake of her head it slid down her face and into her lap making her stomach churn again.

It was not the first time she had woken up in an unfamiliar place; occasionally it was a park bench, or a friends house, or the ever-so-rare bus to no where. The weirdest place, had been was when Teddy fixed her to a folding card table and left her outside for the world to see. She never was able to live that down. Of all places at least she had remained in town.

From the looks of it, she was nowhere near home. There weren't many alleyways that she didn't know about since she had often used them as short cuts before buying her car. Something was off about the area, she just couldn't put her finger on it. After glueing Teddy's feet, she could have sworn she had made it to bed. A melodramatic sigh left her lips as she flopped back onto the trash.

Second big mistake.

The bag popped and sent dust flying into the air, causing a coughing fit while the particles fell slowly like dirty snowflakes into her hair. She gagged as she smelled her once white T-shirt and stood to find her way back home; however, she never made it out of the alley way. Instead she let out a loud 'hreeeeeek' and flattened herself against one of the brick buildings. Running a hand through her hair, she peaked around the building and her eyes were as big as the moon in awe. "Er... that can't be normal."

There was quite a diversity of race where she was from, but she had never witnessed so many Asians before; not even in tourist groups. Seeing hundreds of Japanese people with maybe one lone Caucasian was quite befuddling.

With the timidness of a stray cat she poked her head and inspected the strange sky scrapers and flashing neon lights. Her finger went to her lip as her head tilted curiously. While she may have seemed calm outwardly, inside her nerves were frying harder than a strip of bacon on a Sunday morning.

What if she somehow bought a ticket to Japan and just didn't remember it? What if some old guy with a beard and halitosis decided to shove her into his suitcase with the attempt to kill her, but later decided she wasn't worth the trouble? Her breath hitched, what if Teddy woke early and thought it would be funny to send her Japan. It wasn't like his typical payback prank, but she couldn't put it past him. Tricky sort, that one was.

Ready to give him a piece of her mind, she reached in her pocket and fished around for her phone—the phone that was laying innocently on the sofa of her flat in London. Groaning, she knocked her head against the brick and cringed as the pounding from her hangover. No wallet, no phone, no passport, no money. She couldn't even speak the language other than 'yes' or 'no' or 'stupid'.

Running out into the middle of the pavement seemed like a smart thing to do at first. It was sure to get her attention enough for someone to perhaps explain what was going on.

She was instantly run over by the herd of business men who were headed to a lunch meeting. One curled his lip when his eye locked with Claire's, though she couldn't be sure if it was her race or the smell of garbage, all bets were on both. She smiled at them as politely as she could from her position on the ground, but they walked away without a second glance.

She wondered if she should just lay in the pavement until someone decided to take notice. Maybe someone would call the cops and she could get deported. Japan was always on her list of places to visit, but she could live with the disappointment if it meant she could get home.

Laying in the middle of a busy sidewalk didn't last long because people kept stepping around her, or over her, sometimes even on her, and no one really seemed to care that someone was in the middle of their path. They did, however, give her bewildered, disgusted, curious or annoyed glances from time to time. It made her feel like chopped liver, or something equally as gross.

"Um... what are you doing?" a voice that reminded Claire of a small child asked hesitantly, but looking up she noticed the girl seemed to be closer to her own age of twenty. Her nose was scrunched up, likely due to the stench wafting from Claire's clothing, but her voice seemed genuinely polite.

Down arms, Claire chided her body as they itched to assault the girl in a bear hug. Blue-hazel eyes met brown and they stared at each other before Claire had a beautiful realization. "You speak English!"

The girl blinked and looked around apprehensively. "No, I don't know English. Sorry." She grew even more uneasy as Claire threw her head back and laughed until little snorts came. "I'm Yuno," she offered, hoping the girl would calm down.

"You're speaking English now, though. And I'm Claire," she replied with a smile, until she noticed the panicked expression in the girl's eyes. Sitting up Claire reached out, but Yuno backed up hurriedly.

"You're speaking Japanese like me." Yuno watched cautiously and continued to take slow steps back as if the unusual girl in ill-smelling clothing were a secretly a tiger waiting to pounce. "I-I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Within seconds Claire scrambled to her feet. "Wait, no I'm sorry it was a joke," she yelled, running after the girl. "I'm just not good with people. I have a bad sense of humour. I'm also an idiot, please don't run!"

Lady Luck, it seemed, had decided to smile down upon her for once and Yuno slowed to let Claire catch up. The later panted for breath and her feet seemed to hurt more than usual. She looked down. Ah yes, that would be why... she had no shoes on.

The girl kept walking, so Claire followed her down the block in silence. They passed many signs written in characters that she knew should have made no sense to her. She had never studied Japanese and most of the characters she had never seen before, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she could understand every single one.

Unless Teddy was also a secret wizard of some sort, there was no way he could have brainwashed her into knowing Japanese fluently while dumping her in a Japanese rubbish bin. Her lips pursed in thought.

When the awkwardness finally got to Yuno she looked over at the strange girl. "Why were you in the middle of the city?"

"Social experiment," Claire replied without a second thought. The lie surprised her. Her mind was somewhere else entirely. She very well couldn't stay in Japan with no money or ID. It was just asking for a bad time. "Do you know where the police station is?"

"Everyone does now days." Yuno frowned. Her eyes trained on Claire, eyebrows drawing together with worry. "Are you in any kind of trouble? Did you do something bad?"

"No, no! Nothing like that," she replied quickly, waving her hands in front of her, then laughed nervously.

Yuno's eyes closed briefly as she grinned. For a moment Claire was slightly starstruck. Were all Japanese girls this cute? "Thank goodness! How long have you been in Japan? You're Japanese is very good!"

"Oh, I..." She paused and bit her lip, wondering what on earth she should say. "I don't actually know how I got here," she admitted slowly. At Yuno's nervous gaze she smiled. "I mean, I was afraid of flying and got a little drunk and now it's all kind of a blur. My bags were lost and that—that's why I have to go to the police station!"

"I see!"

Gold star for you, Claire-bear, she thought to herself as they turn the corner and noticed a large crowd of people staring up at a television screen. "So, the police station is near by?" asked Claire. "I'd really like to get off my feet."

Yuno looked down at the black-polish painted toes that peaked out of cotton trousers. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed with a cute giggle that caused a dopey grin to float upon Claire's face. "I have some shoes in my bag. Maybe they'll fit—" Whatever else the girl had been about to say was quickly cut off as the foreigner threw her arms around her, effectively pinning her arms to her side.

Claire could've kissed her. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You are the best!" Yuno smiled before leaning away.

"You're welcome," she said sincerely. "But... not to sound rude, but you stink. Can you please stop hugging me?"

Immediately Claire let go. "Yeah no problem," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing slightly from embarrassment and slipped on the shoes that were a little too small, but still comfortable enough to walk in.

Queerly enough, Claire noticed right off when the police station came into view. It still threw her for a loop that she could read the words Police Station that were hidden in strange, almost cryptic squiggles. It just seemed unnatural to her; not the language, but the fact that she knew it. She turned to Yuno. "Thanks for walking with me. I'm not sure I would've been able to find it without you."

Yuno shrugged good naturedly. "I don't mind. It's rare that I get to meet someone whose foreign. You seem very nice... strange, but nice," she admitted causing Claire to chuckle.

"Strange... I'll consider that a compliment," she replied cheerfully, shoving her hands into her pockets. Goodbyes were always somewhat awkward to her. "Anyway, I best be getting on with it. My luggage won't ever get to me if I don't report them missing."

Yuno nodded. "It would've been nice to show you around Japan properly."

Claire started walking up the steps. "Then lets not say goodbye, Yuno," she offered, looking over her shoulder with a grin. "We'll leave it open and wish for the best."

"You got it!" Yuno yelled as she waved.

Claire entered the station and walked slowly, with some apprehension, towards the front desk where a large, burly man sat with crossed arms looking ever so intimidating in his uniform. Brown eyes narrowed as she closed in and stood before the desk. It was her first time even entering a police station, and she looked a dodgy mess. It would be no surprise if they threw her out simply for the putrid odour coming from her. It was truly a wonder that Yuno made it three blocks without shooing her away.

She stood and stared blankly at the man who looked down his nose at her in disdain, making her feel like a tiny, little ant waiting to be crushed. "English?" he inquired with a gruff voice that sounded like he ate cigars for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

It was enough to shock her out of her bland stare. Leaning against the front desk she grinned. "Yeah, well, I can speak Japanese too," she answered, although she couldn't be confident on what language she even used. "But I'm having a bit of an issue."

His eyes studied her dirtied clothing. "I hadn't noticed."

Her head bobbed in a vigorous nod. "Yes, you see that's why I'm here," she grinned her most charming smile and drew a small circle on the wood with her index finger. "So last night I was having a party, and no one showed up, so I drank quite a bit more than I normally do. When I woke up I was in a pile of trash and it seems my phone and wallet never made the trip. I would very much like to go home, but therein lies the problem," she rushed, words mingling together incomprehensibly. "I can't get home without my wallet or phone."

"I see." He stood and walked around his desk to stand before her with a clipboard. "All right, here is a missing items report, fill it out and we'll alert you as soon as your phone and purse turn up. Until then you should probably contact your bank. There might be someone out there stupid enough to steal your identity, despite Kira."

"Wallet," Claire corrected, watching out of the corner of her eye as two officers entered with coffee. "And I'm afraid it's more complex then simply finding it. My wallet, phone, and... well everything else is still in—" She halted mid sentence and looked up bewildered at the officer. "I'm sorry did you just say Kira?"

It was the officer's turn to look at Claire like she had grown a new head... then disgust as Claire's stomach flip-flopped inside of her, like she were free-falling and she promptly emptied it for the second time in one day. Only this time it was on a shiny pair of shoes belonging to the police officer.

Well bugger.

Unnecessary AN: The beginning of this is optional to believe, but more than likely it's just bullshit. This story is more or less just something I'm doing for fun in between fighting writer's block. Claire is actually modeled after an ex-girlfriend of mine who adores Death Note more than myself, and is even helping me to beta her personality properly. I'm hoping this will blossom into a fun and cute little story for you guys to read, though the later chapters might be a bit awkward to write since she demands this be an M rated fic, so at some point there will be smut whenever she decides who she wants to be with.

Anyway, I personally enjoy fan-inserts when they're well written, and I hope you guys do too. Feel free to leave a review if you like of if you catch any mistakes I may have made (there's always a few).

Cheers -Jack