I'm in a mood for total war.

[yourfinaldeeds]

-There is a Mello in the kitchen, and anyone who has ever met this particular Mello will recognize that he is even more on edge than usual - which is saying a lot, actually. Right now, he is busy opening various cupboards and drawers and slamming them shut again, muttering angrily under his breath. He can't even remember why he came in here in

Comments

[reprism]

Morning, sunshine. [Light drags himself into the kitchen on his old crutches; walking long distances has become a chore - a task which is, in fact, insurmountable.] Not that I'm sure it's morning, but whatever, it was for effect. [he looks like hell, of course, thin and gaunt and green with sunken, dark-ringed eyes.]

[misamisal]

::she looks over at Light with a surprised and worried expression:: Oh God, I didn't know you were sick, too.
::she pulls out a chair for him:: Please, have a seat.

[reprism]

[blinks.] Thanks. [taking the proffered seat, laying his crutches beneath it.] You're... L's girlfriend, right?

[misamisal]

::she nods:: Yes. I'm actually down here preparing some food for him. ::she smiles softly:: Can I get you anything?

[reprism]

Yeah. The other bass-player. [remembering now.] Just making sure, it can be difficult to keep track... uh, I actually came here to make myself some tea - it's fine, though, I can do it. [getting to his feet again, a somewhat laboured effort, and heading over to the cupboards, legs trembling very slightly under him.]

[misamisal]

::she nods:: Alright then.

::there's a pause, but she decides to ask:: Are you...improving?

[reprism]

Worsening. [fetching out a mug and a teabag, and then letting some water into the kettle.] You've managed to avoid getting sick?

[misamisal]

::She shakes her head:: No.
::holding up her left arm, her index finger and thumb are dark green, her hand a medium shade and it fades out to a light green near the middle of her forarm. Upon closer inspection, her iris's are a dark green as well::
My back has it, too. I'm worsening as well, it seems.

[reprism]

Is it just discolouration, or is there numbness, pain...?

[misamisal]

::she nods:: It's very cold, though the coldness seems to have isolated itself in the fingers... my back is still rather cold and...it almost feels like carpotunnel symptoms, like a heartbeat pain as if the veins are being squeezed... ::she shrugs:: But, it's not as bad as others, so I can't complain too much.

[yourfinaldeeds]

-Mello glares silently for a second before responding with one of his stock retorts:-

Fuck off.

[reprism]

[pauses and tilts his head a bit, looking off into space, as though considering this.] Nah, I don't think I will, but thanks for the offer. You don't look too well.

[yourfinaldeeds]

Wasn't an offer, you idiot. Christ, you're really not very smart after all, are you?

-He slams a cabinet door shut, then another, then another.-

[reprism]

I know it wasn't an offer. I was just being a smartass. And if you're going to try to insult me at least do it semi-competently.

[yourfinaldeeds]

Well you suck at it, kid.

-Mello slams one more cabinet door, then flexes and unflexes his right hand a few times to attempt shaking off the numbness in his fingers.-

And you might want to watch how you're talking about competent there, FDR. -Mello nods at the crutches with a smirk.-

[reprism]

Oh dear. Someone really is intellectually challenged. What does you insulting me competently have to do with my physical competence? I wasn't talking about general competence. [he sounds lightly amused.] What's wrong with your hand?