Page Eight: It's not a Birthday without....Dinosaurs? [In Person/Accidental Video]
[Though Light is, by most people's standards an early riser, even by Light's exacting standards five-thirty in the morning is much too early. He tosses lazily in-between his covers, his brain still drowsy and recovering from the exhausting fantasy world of rapid-eye movement sleep to process the constellation of neuronal activity that would have otherwise led to four immediate conclusions. As Light reluctantly clears his eyes of sleep, he is able to reach one of those conclusions-- an embarrassing twenty five percent for the genius-- and that is, he is no longer a child.
Immediately he bolts up-right, simultaneously examining one of his normally sized hands, and flattening his spectacular bed-head with the other. Despite himself and the absurd hour, he smiles slightly. All the neck craning of last week had frankly gotten quite annoying. Being his normal size at least, put him at greater ease, though of course, all this meant was that the Author had started some new mysterious plot. Fifty percent. ...And judging from his surroundings, the luxury sheets- decidedly not his own- and the hotel style accommodations he found himself in, well... Ugh. He groans. It couldn't be so bad. At least this place is comfortable.
A conclusion that mollifies the newly adult-again Light. ....That is, until he hears the sound faintly echoing off in the distance again. It's not quite a lion's roar, no, Light isn't even sure that he can call it feline. If anything, it has the acoustics of a strangled amalgamation of cetacean, avian, feline and homo sapien shrieking all combined into one bone-rattling hiss played backwards. It's the sound that woke Light up initially. There's only one association he makes with such a noise, thanks to his country's bullshit popculture phenomenon otherwise known affectionately as Godzilla. But of course, the Author wouldn't do that, would she? Shit. SHIT.
Throwing the sheets off of himself, he throws the curtains wide open and is immediately relieved to find that they are not, in fact, in Tokyo. But the giant logo, the last emblem he wanted to see, the words "Jurassic Park" emblazoned in fiery red and black letters, makes Light lose his cool-- almost. Seventy five percent. He clenches his fists, until his knuckles turn white. His breath is released slowly, over the span of ten seconds as he calms down. The moment passes, and soon the urge to shout subsides. He could deal with this. Really.
It isn't until he turns the door knob, and finds a large banner taped to the front of his door that reads:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIGHT!!
But it's not the banner that causes Light to snap. It's the enormous pile of balloons.]
...I'm going to kill you...
((ooc: It's Light's birthday today! I couldn't resist. Um... also, link is slightly NSFW. Imagay! Geddit, geddit? ...Yeah, I'm lame, shut up.))
Immediately he bolts up-right, simultaneously examining one of his normally sized hands, and flattening his spectacular bed-head with the other. Despite himself and the absurd hour, he smiles slightly. All the neck craning of last week had frankly gotten quite annoying. Being his normal size at least, put him at greater ease, though of course, all this meant was that the Author had started some new mysterious plot. Fifty percent. ...And judging from his surroundings, the luxury sheets- decidedly not his own- and the hotel style accommodations he found himself in, well... Ugh. He groans. It couldn't be so bad. At least this place is comfortable.
A conclusion that mollifies the newly adult-again Light. ....That is, until he hears the sound faintly echoing off in the distance again. It's not quite a lion's roar, no, Light isn't even sure that he can call it feline. If anything, it has the acoustics of a strangled amalgamation of cetacean, avian, feline and homo sapien shrieking all combined into one bone-rattling hiss played backwards. It's the sound that woke Light up initially. There's only one association he makes with such a noise, thanks to his country's bullshit popculture phenomenon otherwise known affectionately as Godzilla. But of course, the Author wouldn't do that, would she? Shit. SHIT.
Throwing the sheets off of himself, he throws the curtains wide open and is immediately relieved to find that they are not, in fact, in Tokyo. But the giant logo, the last emblem he wanted to see, the words "Jurassic Park" emblazoned in fiery red and black letters, makes Light lose his cool-- almost. Seventy five percent. He clenches his fists, until his knuckles turn white. His breath is released slowly, over the span of ten seconds as he calms down. The moment passes, and soon the urge to shout subsides. He could deal with this. Really.
It isn't until he turns the door knob, and finds a large banner taped to the front of his door that reads:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIGHT!!
But it's not the banner that causes Light to snap. It's the enormous pile of balloons.]
...I'm going to kill you...
((ooc: It's Light's birthday today! I couldn't resist. Um... also, link is slightly NSFW. Imagay! Geddit, geddit? ...Yeah, I'm lame, shut up.))