Cat, Rat, and Dog

[worldsrunnerup]

Character Names: The Successors: Mello worldsrunnerup, Matt gamer_anon, and B b_isforbetter
When: Sunday night of the Random Talents plot
Location: The Morgue
Summary: B has a surprise for M&M
Rating: R, because B's involved.
Warnings: B, 'nuff said.

Comments

It's okay FOR NOW

[worldsrunnerup]

Mello jumped, he felt like an idiot for not realizing that one of the bodies wasn't...well, a body. He should have done checked the Manor, done a head count to see how many bodies were actually in the morgue. His hand went instinctively to his belt-line but as usual his gun was absent. Months later he still couldn't get used to that, he still felt like an amputee so awkward without his weapon and still feeling ghostly recoil every time he heard a shot. Instead he probed his jacket for one of the explosives he had there. No. He had to remain calm. He let his hand drop limply to his side as he stared B down. B would not win. He would not scare them, he would not defeat them, he would lose to M the same way he lost to L. B was far from flawless and Mello knew each one of those flaws.

"Not by my watch," Mello kept his impossibly blue eyes on B's sinister red ones. He knew what those eyes were and what was more he got the explanation before B did. He tried to show on his face that he was not afraid of B's monstrous eyes. He wanted to look like he was almost bored of them. He'd seen Shinigami eyes before and he'd seen them IN a shinigami so B's paled in comparison; a shoddy rip-off of a sub-par original. It wasn't true, of course, B's eyes actually sent shivers down his spine and rose goosebumps all over his body especially with how they shown in the dark but Mello hoped his act would pay off. "Why are you lying here in the dark like some shitty haunted house prop, B?"

[gamer_anon]

Matt was pretty sure that he'd seen that in a game before. A survival-horror, of course, set in some run-down hospital where something horrible had happened and it was your job to find out exactly what. But Matt couldn't devote too much to trying to remember the name. He had to focus his attention elsewhere.

B. He was like them, but not. Sure, the guy was creepy, as much by his appearance than by the things he'd done. But when Matt thought about it, that could've been any one of them. Matt didn't exactly care for humanity, hadn't made a move against Kira until Mello ordered him to. And then there was Mello himself, who had joined the mob, had been willing to kidnap and blackmail and even--

Matt arched a brow at the little exchange about time. By his calculations, they were somewhere in the middle. But he was just fine with keeping that to himself, more comfortable with just watching in the background.

Guuuuh, I'm sorry it's so long. B wouldn't stop being smug T_T

[b_isforbetter]

As Mihael Keehl spoke and Mail Jeevas watched, B sat and eyed them back. A nervous, thoughtful look on Mail Jeevas's face; a hard expression on Mihael Keehl's.

Mail Jeevas, supposedly the most naturally observant of all of Wammy's children, at least as of the last time B had been to the school. There was no doubt that a million facts and opinions were running through his head right now, as he waited on the sidelines for a command. B was sure that Mihael Keehl knew enough to rely on his lover's senses; he would have to put up a very confident (and frightening) face to threaten him.

Mihael Keehl's face expression was only an act, but that didn't make him hard to read. He was trying to seem unfazed and unimpressed by B's entrance, and the act was very convincing. But B knew better than to believe it. Mihael Keehl was definitely afraid. Everyone was afraid of his eyes. They were the eyes of a shinigami, after all: B had known that long before Mihael Keehl confirmed it. A shinigami's eyes are not like a human's. Anyone can wear red contacts and sport a pair of red eyes: B had done it himself, once, as an experiment. While covering his own eyes with red contacts, people were not afraid. They looked confused or amused when they saw them, yes. But there were never afraid. That was because it wasn't the color. It was the eyes themselves. No human wants to look at death. Certainly not into death's eyes. It was a primal, subconscious reaction, and Mihael Keehl had no way of controlling that.

B smiled, white teeth barely visible in the dark. "It was a good entrance," he answered. "Many people think that zombies look cool. Including myself."

Mihael Keehl could hardly argue that. He didn't know about the "Batman vs. the Zombie Prince" comic book that L owned. It was in the background of a photograph of L. There was only one of those photographs in the world, and it was B's.

"Also, I have some advice to ask of you," he finished.

WHY SO CREEPY B!!!!! And also, is that even a real comic?

[worldsrunnerup]

"Zombies are only 'cool' if you're nine and retarded," Mello said, he didn't look over at Matt although he wanted to. He knew throwing his partner a look would negate what he was saying somewhat just as he knew Matt would not show his disapproval on his stoic face.

Advice. That was where things finally started to get interesting. Mello was wondering when B would cut the theatrics and get to the point. With B it could have been hours of setting the scene, silently battling Wammy's second and third sons for control, and angering Mello with his toxic snake-like arrogance.

But in the hours Mello had been preparing himself for their morgue meeting he never expected B to be asking for "advice." It was, of course, just a pretense. It was B's way of introducing them to his plan.

"I'll see what I can do," Mello smarmed.

[gamer_anon]

Matt arched a brow. He kind of thought zombies were cool. Mindless and lifeless...he could get used to that. But having your arm fall off in the middle of a boss battle would be a pain in the ass.

All this while he watched the scene in front of him, memorized it, took note of the details. Multitasking had been another of his strong points.

Advice. A soft huff escaped him, part amused and part insulted. Right. He'd summoned them here, went through the trouble of the set-up, and scared the bejeezus out of them for a face to face version of 'Dear Abby'.

His eyes flickered to Mello. No signals. So he remained where he was.

It is not, in fact, a real comic. But L isn't a real detective, now is he? u_u

[b_isforbetter]

At this point, B hopped off of the gurney and stood. He moved slowly so as not to alarm the two younger children of Wammy's House. It would not be very good if they killed him now; he still had more of his plan to set in motion. The lazy, slouching and yet surprisingly nimble movement so completely aped the style in which L moved that it would have been hard to notice the twitchy, slithery nature hidden underneath the exterior. He'd taken Light Yagami's criticism to heart: he needed to move more like L. When he stood, it was a smooth slouch, bare feet flat on the ground, hands at his side. As he looked Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas over and began to speak, one hand slowly moved upward, thumb sticking out so that he could begin to chew on the nail in thought.

"If you wanted to stage a murder to get the attention of L, how would you do it? Would you kill someone important? Would you kill someone brutally? Would you kill someone very young or helpless? Or would you kill many people at once?"

It works. It sounds very Silver Age

[worldsrunnerup]

Mello knew B wouldn't kill them here, there was no reason to. The murder would cause more headache than pleasure, B had no way to hide their deaths or their bodies. He would instantly reveal himself, destroy the mystery he was building up, and have every detective and cop on him before their bodies even cooled. But Mello didn't feel like testing it, B's unease was obvious, well, not to most people but Mello was good at reading people especially other Wammy Boys.

Mello was not expecting B's outburst. He wasn't expecting B to be so abrupt and so obvious. He was expecting a riddle or clue, something vague. He instinctively took a step back, away from swiftly advancing murderer, but he stood his ground.

B's words caused anger to surge in Mello, white hot and just below the surface. People like B made him sick, murderers praying on the weak and innocent for their own stupid selfish reasons. And to think B was like him, to think B came from the same Hellhole he did. Mello grit his teeth, "you're a sick motherfucker." He composed himself, or tried to, with a few deep breaths. "L will stop you before you can even breathe on them."

[gamer_anon]

"I'd kill the ones that wouldn't come back." Matt's eyes lidded a little as he removed another cigarette. Lit it. Inhaled. He wasn't as intelligent as Mello, but he wasn't as emotional either. And certainly wasn't as driven by justice. "They come back. Talk to L. It's game over. Takes all the fun out of it." It's probably the most he's spoken since the meeting started.

"It's all bullshit man. It's pointless."