L's Rock Band Ch 4 ConfusionNote
A/N: I do not own Death Note or Metalocalypse.
Warnings: There are a couple of comments here that might offend some people. They are meant to be satircal and not to be taken seriously. That is all.
(For instance characters say "that's gay" a couple of times. I have nothing against gays otherwise I wouldn't write slash. It's in there because 1) This fic is based off Metalocalypse and 2) our genii are teenage boys who haven't figured it out yet.)
***
The young God and his follower stopped at a cybercafé, their train of tigers stood guard outside. Mikami quietly ran his fingers over the frets as he kept practicing. He was learning at an inhuman pace (but it still wasn't good enough! He had to be perfect for his God!) He frequently glanced over to watch his God's back as he leaned over the keyboard doing something divine and mystical he was sure that he, as a mere mortal, surely couldn't hope to comprehend let alone know about.
Light sighed wistfully.
Mikami finally couldn't stand it anymore and needed to stalk, er, see what his Lord was doing.
"What's the matter, Light-sama?"
At Mikami's approach Light hastily closed the windows displaying porn (he never could seem to find anything that interested him anyway.) But Mikami did see the ones displaying how to get into the music business and various social networking sites.
"I'm just... looking for a rival to challenge me," Light explained quickly, defensively.
Mikami blinked in confusion. "A... rival?"
"Yes."
"Wha-?" Mikami was confused. Why would Light want someone trying to catch him? "But... but my Lord, I thought you don't like it when people defy you."
"I don't, but... to defy a God, to defy me, that takes balls; you know what I'm saying?"
"I-I... think so..."
"To be a God unopposed... That gets rather lonely and boring."
At Mikami's blank look it was obvious that he didn't understand so Light tried to explain in a different way, he pulled out his copy of the latest issue of Shonen Jump he had stashed in a hidden compartment of his bookbag. "See? The hero always has a rival to challenge him so he gets better."
"O-Oooh! Like Ryu and Ken?" Teru said remembering their earlier stop at the arcade (thanks to Ryuk's insistent pestering) where the terrible trio had taken a break to play Streetfighter and Dance-Dance Revolution.
"Yeah, exactly like Ryu and Ken. I've always been the best. I want someone who can match me, someone to play against..."
"But you're already the best..."
"But there's always room for improvement, right? We must be better than best! We'll redefine best! We'll be the greatest and most brutal of all!"
"Yes, Light-sama!" Teru cheered whole-heartedly, caught up in the other's enthusiasm even as Light ignored him in favor of letting his wishes be known...
"So you see; in order to do this I need a rival. Someone to push me to my limit and show me what I'm truly capable of! He'll be smart like me... He will challenge me and he will be infuriating but that's what's needed for personal growth, or so I hear. Also he'll be really unique and exotic looking with long dark hair and pretty eyes and..."
Mikami sweat-dropped "Are you sure you're looking for a rival?" He dared ask.
"Are you suggesting something, Teru?"
"No, no my lord!" Teru said quickly upon seeing the menacing glint in Light's eyes. "Just..." Inspiration struck."Say... I could be your rival!"
"What? You'd dare!"
Mikami cowered. "Of course! Whatever you want, my Lord!"
Light sighed. "See, Teru you're just not good rival material."
Teru moped.
***
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" L's shout reverberated throughout the public bathhouse. He had sneezed, resulting in a tragic domino effect of him facefisting himself with his pink swirl lollipop stuck in his hair.
"Huh, someone must be talking about you," Matt joked.
"Then he'll pay for this!" L growled as he painfully pulled against his lollipop that was now lodged against his scalp in the tangle of his hair.
Meanwhile the sounds of choked sobbing continuously pierced through the shower walls.
Matt sighed as he leaned against the tile wall, his arms folded across his chest. Upon entry he had turned off his bright pink handheld, wrapped it in plastic, and stowed it away into the safety of his jean's pocket. He feared the steam in here would wreck it (it was limited edition, after all, with few left in existence... he had bought it exclusively to match his favorite pink striped shirt) but that left Matt with nothing to preoccupy himself with and thus becoming increasingly bored... "He's taking forever," Matt groaned as he reached into the deep inner pocket of his beige fur-lined vest and retrieved an unopened can of Sopporo. While L was preoccupied with his candy problem Matt idly popped it open and took a swig.
Meanwhile, after much straining, L finally freed his sticky treat from the black nest of his hair. He paused slightly as if in consideration before he resumed licking it. "Huh, maybe we should go in and check on him," L added as an afterthought.
"You know, this is dangerously close to giving a crap."
"You're right. That's totally not metal."
"Because ADMITTING SADNESS MAKES YOU GAY!" Matt announced in a sing-song voice.
"Oh, most definitely," L agreed emphatically around his bright pink lollipop.
"I'M NOT GAY!" Mello shouted back, much too loudly, from the other side of the wall as he recovered from his recent trauma. Mello had learned his lesson about hookers at least for the minute, or at least the consequences of looking like one.
Mello had become aware of the situation only after he was naked and chained to that luxurious bed. He had asked the individual he was with about payment and the "chick" tossed him a wad of bills. Only then did it become apparent that "she" was a "he" and apparently thought he was a "dirty whore." Though before anything could advance too far an enraged Matt (ironically screaming "GET THE F/RIFF/ OFF HIM YA DOUCHEBAG!") had come to his rescue nearly choking the John to death with a drumstick while L had been preoccupied shimming open Mello's handcuffs.
However, said rescue didn't come before Mello discovered he enjoyed the Enema Club's namesake-thus his current crisis which left him screaming overly-emphatic assertions of heterosexuality, peppered with the occasional sob of...
"I'm fat..." Mello moaned.
Matt massaged his forehead. It was just one of the parting shots, the litany of insults the androgynous John shouted before Matt beat him unconscious: "Dirty whore! Fat, stupid gaijin!" But regardless of how detached from reality that statement was the "fat" one was obviously the insult that stuck as Mello had looked absolutely stricken. Matt wondered if he could still sue the bastard, despite nearly having beaten him to death, if he caused Mello to relapse into bulimia again.
"Shoulda killed him," the red-headed teen stewed with rage as he considered how Hentai McRapist dared to touch his Mello and... Matt nearly choked on his can of Sapporo. Wait, what?
"I'm glad you didn't. I'm L remember? I'd be obligated to arrest you for homicide," L said as he turned out his baggy jeans pockets (displacing several candy wrappers in the process) to reveal a pair of shiny new handcuffs. "And then I'd have to keep you handcuffed to me for the rest of our tour."
"Ewwwww," Matt said, horrified. "Being handcuffed to another man is most TOTALLY GAY."
"SHUT THE F/RIFF/ UP!" Mello shouted over the din of the shower. "YOU... YOUR MOM'S THE GAY ONE!"
L rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, genius-level comeback. I'm so glad you two have had the benefit of a Wammy's education."
Just then Mello emerged from the shower, his towel wrapped tightly around his thin hips.
"I'm not gay... I'm not..." Mello grumbled lowly between muttering obscenities.
For some reason Matt became fascinated with how the water dripped down Mello's lithe, bare chest. Matt swallowed hard but smiled reassuringly at his best bud. Mello yelped and nearly lost the towel when Matt ran over and hugged him (in a totally non-gay way, totally...) "It's alright Mello. We're still cool even if you are gay."
Mello glowered as he announced "I assure you all, I'm not gay... Jesus, Matt! Don't touch me." Mello shoved him away, brushing past him without a second glance. A dark look passed over Matt as the blonde ignored them and went off to get dressed in his tight leather pants (he would NOT change his wardrobe on account of any perv.)
"I need a drink," Matt declared sullenly.
"You're holding a drink," L mumbled in a guttural and barely coherent way around his lollipop.
"I need a stronger drink," Matt argued. "Weren't we planning on going to Note Blue?"
"I'm sure after all that Mello wants to just go back to the hotel..."
"No way!" Mello roared as he strutted back in fully dressed in his form-fitting leather, his blue eyes piercing with signature rage and determination. "Tonight I am gonna find a girl and I AM GONNA GET LAID!"
"Hmm... that may take a while," L murmured under his breath.
"We want to be back sometime this century, Mells-Ow!"Matt reeled from Mello punching him in the gut.
***
Matt irritably tapped on the counter in time to the fast and pulsing beat of the background music (surprisingly the music here was pretty good) trying to ignore Mello as he flirted with whatever girl he had cornered into talking to him-Matt thought her name was Kiyomi something-or-other-his disgust evident on his face.
L ignored them both in favor of continued aggressive negotiations with the staff that yet more sugar be added to his amazake and no, he would not sit normally on the bar stools no matter what the policy was; thank you very much. In the end L just waved a wad of bills around and claimed the V.I.P. couch for himself and Matt. Matt continued to watch as Mello got friendly with Kiyomi-skank and somehow his new can of Sopporo became crushed in his hand. He was puzzled by his own reactions. Why should it bother him what Mello did? It was his business. Well, Matt supposed it was just embarrassing to watch his best friend humiliate himself like this...
"Oh yeah," Mello returned to their couch to brag. "She's totally digging me."
"She stole your wallet," Matt observed.
"What?" Mello exclaimed and quickly confirmed it. "The BITCH!"
"And now she's gone," Matt said as he scanned the sea of shifting bodies of the crowd but Kiyomi What's-Her-Face was nowhere to be found.
"Aw... shit."
"I freakin' told you she was trouble."
"Shut up, Matt!" Mello shouted, but despaired that his friend was right. When the beleaguered bartender returned Mello ordered the hard stuff. After several more unsuccessful tries Mello slumped into the couch, landing with his head in Matt's lap resisting all attempts to get him to move and causing Matt much discomfort as Mello, a fist full of whisky in hand, began to loudly launch into a diatribe about how women were all "f/riff/ing hell-spawned soul-murderers." (Naturally, this did nothing to improve his odds.) Matt was at his wits end as he was trapped in his seat by his depressed, drunken friend. "And I'm fat..." Mello slurred.
"Oh god, Mells! Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're not fat! You're bulimic!"
"Shut up!"
Meanwhile L had finally persuaded the barkeep to just leave the sugar bowl next to him as he got a refill on his drink... though his attention had become focused on the spotlight lit stage...
"Be gentle, it's their first time!" Boomed the announcer, "Presenting the Brothers of Deception!"
Earlier
No one had bothered them, as Light and Teru with their respective white and black trenchcoats swishing dramatically behind them, strode right up to the door of the nightclub flanked by a Death God and a streak of tigers that obediently waited for them at the entrance. The Shinigami floated in after them unnoticed. Light had just smiled and batted his eyelashes and just like that they were booked for the night.
Backstage as they were getting ready Light asked casually "So Teru, have you ever played guitar before?"
"Er... no, my Lord."
"That's cool. I haven't either. Don't worry, we'll blow them away. Just follow my lead."
Light's confidence was infectious. "Yes God!"
Now
L shifted slightly leaning forward in his signature crouch like a bloodhound that had just caught the scent...
"Hey, guys?" L addressed the irritated-looking Matt and a catatonic Mello. "Cheer up. I think we're one step closer to finding Kira."
Matt perked up from where he sat slumped on their sofa, holding his drooling friend. "Huh, what makes you say that?"
L pointed out the brown-haired guy onstage with KIRA and DEATH NOTE scrawled on his guitar in large white gothic letters. "Call it a hunch..."
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