(no subject)
Who: B and Reiko
When: sometime after halle's little fun time with b's arm
Where: the church
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: BB. Mangled arms. Traps.
Summary: B's kind of broken, jusssst a bit, and Reiko comes to pick up the pieces. Or try~
It was a little painful, juuuust a little bit, not like flesh crackling under flame, no, or that little girl and her gauged out eyes. No no no, more painful like busted gear or a broken picture frame or holding the chemicals to the victims mouth with an old rag, whispering pain in their ear.
It was lovely, exsquisite, just as planned. He got his attention, yes yes, a kamikaze act to show just how serious their game was. He had needed reminding you see, of just what B was capable of, of what BB was willing to do for him. Graham Aker had been too much fun and Mello had played nicely and Halle and Alle just as well, he was oh so proud. Even if his mind screamed and screamed.
He feel right infront of the alter, a crumpled mess of old burn scars peeking from his ripped shirt and bone peeking from his ripped skin. His arms was a mess, cracked and bleeding, lovely really, and the bullet hole in his leg bled even more when he pulled the bullet out. Had to give it back to it's owner, you see. Quillish Wammy taught manners.
When he was hurt A would come and put a bandage, stop the bleeding. A, where was A? He should have been there, even with a broken neck, craaack, we all fall down. B's chest shook with something, maybe laugher, as he stared up at the ceiling. He began to hum Beethoven's 1st, cracked with the occasional wisp of laughter.
"And the finale." He muttered to no one.
When: sometime after halle's little fun time with b's arm
Where: the church
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: BB. Mangled arms. Traps.
Summary: B's kind of broken, jusssst a bit, and Reiko comes to pick up the pieces. Or try~
It was a little painful, juuuust a little bit, not like flesh crackling under flame, no, or that little girl and her gauged out eyes. No no no, more painful like busted gear or a broken picture frame or holding the chemicals to the victims mouth with an old rag, whispering pain in their ear.
It was lovely, exsquisite, just as planned. He got his attention, yes yes, a kamikaze act to show just how serious their game was. He had needed reminding you see, of just what B was capable of, of what BB was willing to do for him. Graham Aker had been too much fun and Mello had played nicely and Halle and Alle just as well, he was oh so proud. Even if his mind screamed and screamed.
He feel right infront of the alter, a crumpled mess of old burn scars peeking from his ripped shirt and bone peeking from his ripped skin. His arms was a mess, cracked and bleeding, lovely really, and the bullet hole in his leg bled even more when he pulled the bullet out. Had to give it back to it's owner, you see. Quillish Wammy taught manners.
When he was hurt A would come and put a bandage, stop the bleeding. A, where was A? He should have been there, even with a broken neck, craaack, we all fall down. B's chest shook with something, maybe laugher, as he stared up at the ceiling. He began to hum Beethoven's 1st, cracked with the occasional wisp of laughter.
"And the finale." He muttered to no one.