The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret [Open/Active]
Characters: Yukimi, Ace, Mello, anyone else?
Setting: The storeroom
Time: Night 14
Summary: Ace and Yukimi the terrorist journalist are looking for the equipment he needs to start a Dollsy newsletter. Then a WILD MELLO appears!
Warnings: Ace and Yukimi are a walking language warning.
Yukimi couldn't believe he was doing this. He'd thought about it a couple of times before, and they did need better communication and information exchange around here, but this still had Bad Idea written all over it. If nothing else, starting a newsletter would be a helluvalot of work to inflict upon himself. Between this and the whole Phantasms incident, he was beginning to suspect that he was some kind of closet masochist. And yet here he was, braving the where-the-fuck-are-those-eyes-coming-from of the night, rummaging through the storeroom for a computer, a printing press, even a typewriter-- anything that might help out with publishing and not having to write everything by hand. This would be a lot easier if it weren't for the distracting eyes, which seemed to be in every box in the room till you opened it fully, at which point they vanished. If Ace wasn't seeing them too, he'd be inclined to think he'd finally gone crazy. Not that Ace was the pinnacle of sanity himself, but the likelyhood of them having the same hallucination at once was pretty low, so it was good enough.
"A box of yarn and wooden stakes." Yukimi squinted at them, pawing through the tangled mess. Who the hell packed such random things together? "Whoever owns this place isn't real big on organization, huh." He glanced up at Ace. "Any luck?"
Setting: The storeroom
Time: Night 14
Summary: Ace and Yukimi the terrorist journalist are looking for the equipment he needs to start a Dollsy newsletter. Then a WILD MELLO appears!
Warnings: Ace and Yukimi are a walking language warning.
Yukimi couldn't believe he was doing this. He'd thought about it a couple of times before, and they did need better communication and information exchange around here, but this still had Bad Idea written all over it. If nothing else, starting a newsletter would be a helluvalot of work to inflict upon himself. Between this and the whole Phantasms incident, he was beginning to suspect that he was some kind of closet masochist. And yet here he was, braving the where-the-fuck-are-those-eyes-coming-from of the night, rummaging through the storeroom for a computer, a printing press, even a typewriter-- anything that might help out with publishing and not having to write everything by hand. This would be a lot easier if it weren't for the distracting eyes, which seemed to be in every box in the room till you opened it fully, at which point they vanished. If Ace wasn't seeing them too, he'd be inclined to think he'd finally gone crazy. Not that Ace was the pinnacle of sanity himself, but the likelyhood of them having the same hallucination at once was pretty low, so it was good enough.
"A box of yarn and wooden stakes." Yukimi squinted at them, pawing through the tangled mess. Who the hell packed such random things together? "Whoever owns this place isn't real big on organization, huh." He glanced up at Ace. "Any luck?"