Week #102 - Abandoned
Title: It's Always the Quiet Ones
Author: sabriel75
Characters/Pairing: Near, Light, memories of L, Mello and Matt
Rating: Teen
Warnings: none
Word Count: 641
Author's Note: Something I wrote ages ago for my series Finite Sensibilities.
People have hope because they cannot see death standing behind them.
L, an enigma that had played with a great many variable disguises, easily disarmed people with his pretense of idiocy. The stereotype had been demeaning and Near hated the class clown trick. As undeniably annoying as it was, it worked quickly and effectively, and who was Near to tell the great and mighty L how to act.
Mello, a tornado of pithy, righteous fury and prettified punk slash emo slash thug demanded people's attention. His tone never softened. He never wavered from truth, dignity or prideful carriage and yet, he would seduce Matt with looks, secreted smiles and gentle pats of assurances. Near had known if Mello had ever given him the chance, he could have excelled, would have provided the care Mello sought in that regard too.
Matt, untouchable and unstoppable when faced with the headiest of tempers, swayed people with his platitudes, an easy-going smile and winning social graces. He never let on if he felt out of place or mishandled or unfairly treated, and people gravitated to him like sugary sweets and chocolate pacified L and Mello.
Near, neither strong in stature nor charismatic in appearance had perfected his mien from birth. Helpless wasn't hard to affect when one essentially was. At least at birth, Near had been… or so he thought bemusedly since he really chose not to remember much of his early childhood. Dwelling on the past rarely interested him or humored him. Those memories were best left where the tangled webs of his mind stowed them. A slight nuisance but entirely unnecessary in the "big picture" scheme of things. But the little ache they left imprinted on Near's psyche only added more depth to his performance. Frankly, he had been impressed with how well he had used his fate-induced angst to his benefit.
And so had they.
L amusedly watched as he manipulated people into doing for him what he was quite capable of doing himself, even going so far as to participate in the joke when he was in a good mood.
Mello felt the sting of the insult every damn time, never once imagining that his bravado persona brought out the same hateful spite in Near for the very same reasons. When were they ever truly free to be anything more than their pretenses?
Matt enjoyed Near's appearance of childish frailty. Something in his nature clung to escapist mentality and Near did little to nothing to jar him out of those fantasies. They played together in quiet, unassuming companionship that Near missed just as much as Mello's raging and L's teasing.
But then again, they had never seen him as anything more than the shell of humanity that embodied his true essence. They had never known him to be more…, more than capable of outliving them until it was too late.
Near had always known his mind was the deadliest.
What a wonderful feeling to know that Kira recognized his lethality from the very beginning! Had always treated him like an opponent with skills, someone to be wary of…, someone who was more than a child playing the pity card. Even as he marveled at Light's ability to wrap all the deceptions of L, Mello and Matt into one completely uniform and masterful guise and pondered how one could fight a "god" that knew how to play-act every stop the Wammy boys had pulled; he knew deep down that Kira was afraid of him.
The flirtatious banter hidden in challenges made over the intercom. Smiles, diabolically spurred but respectful too. Purred exchanges with hinted promises of more.
Kira was having just as much fun as Near was. But he was desperate too.
And nothing…, if anything, had ever stroked Near's ego so intensely than the frenzied recreancy he heard in Kira's voice.
Author: sabriel75
Characters/Pairing: Near, Light, memories of L, Mello and Matt
Rating: Teen
Warnings: none
Word Count: 641
Author's Note: Something I wrote ages ago for my series Finite Sensibilities.
People have hope because they cannot see death standing behind them.
L, an enigma that had played with a great many variable disguises, easily disarmed people with his pretense of idiocy. The stereotype had been demeaning and Near hated the class clown trick. As undeniably annoying as it was, it worked quickly and effectively, and who was Near to tell the great and mighty L how to act.
Mello, a tornado of pithy, righteous fury and prettified punk slash emo slash thug demanded people's attention. His tone never softened. He never wavered from truth, dignity or prideful carriage and yet, he would seduce Matt with looks, secreted smiles and gentle pats of assurances. Near had known if Mello had ever given him the chance, he could have excelled, would have provided the care Mello sought in that regard too.
Matt, untouchable and unstoppable when faced with the headiest of tempers, swayed people with his platitudes, an easy-going smile and winning social graces. He never let on if he felt out of place or mishandled or unfairly treated, and people gravitated to him like sugary sweets and chocolate pacified L and Mello.
Near, neither strong in stature nor charismatic in appearance had perfected his mien from birth. Helpless wasn't hard to affect when one essentially was. At least at birth, Near had been… or so he thought bemusedly since he really chose not to remember much of his early childhood. Dwelling on the past rarely interested him or humored him. Those memories were best left where the tangled webs of his mind stowed them. A slight nuisance but entirely unnecessary in the "big picture" scheme of things. But the little ache they left imprinted on Near's psyche only added more depth to his performance. Frankly, he had been impressed with how well he had used his fate-induced angst to his benefit.
And so had they.
L amusedly watched as he manipulated people into doing for him what he was quite capable of doing himself, even going so far as to participate in the joke when he was in a good mood.
Mello felt the sting of the insult every damn time, never once imagining that his bravado persona brought out the same hateful spite in Near for the very same reasons. When were they ever truly free to be anything more than their pretenses?
Matt enjoyed Near's appearance of childish frailty. Something in his nature clung to escapist mentality and Near did little to nothing to jar him out of those fantasies. They played together in quiet, unassuming companionship that Near missed just as much as Mello's raging and L's teasing.
But then again, they had never seen him as anything more than the shell of humanity that embodied his true essence. They had never known him to be more…, more than capable of outliving them until it was too late.
Near had always known his mind was the deadliest.
What a wonderful feeling to know that Kira recognized his lethality from the very beginning! Had always treated him like an opponent with skills, someone to be wary of…, someone who was more than a child playing the pity card. Even as he marveled at Light's ability to wrap all the deceptions of L, Mello and Matt into one completely uniform and masterful guise and pondered how one could fight a "god" that knew how to play-act every stop the Wammy boys had pulled; he knew deep down that Kira was afraid of him.
The flirtatious banter hidden in challenges made over the intercom. Smiles, diabolically spurred but respectful too. Purred exchanges with hinted promises of more.
Kira was having just as much fun as Near was. But he was desperate too.
And nothing…, if anything, had ever stroked Near's ego so intensely than the frenzied recreancy he heard in Kira's voice.