(Untitled)

[macchiare]

[There is a blonde woman in a sleek black business suit clipping along down the hallway, yammering loudly into her cell phone:]

Look, Halle, I don't give a shit what it takes, just keep this out of the papers, all right? Mail's been AWOL for months, and the last thing I need is -

[She comes to an abrupt stop in the hallway, realizing her line

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[macchiare]

[She stares him up and down for a minute.]

People tend take you a little more seriously if you've got a suit.

[She frowns, as if slightly frustrated.]

Sweetie, that is not your color.

[macchiare]

The blue. Makes you look kind of sallow, you know. [She motions to her own face, nodding a little.]

Very funny, kid. I'm Mihael. Did Halle put you up to this?

[downtothefilter]

[Mail's been feeling relativity good since the last time he saw Mihael. And after living in the mansion so long he honestly didn't think someone from his own world would show up. Much less her.

So when Mail is walking down the same hallway and he spots her, of course he's going to stand there with an idiotic shell-shocked expression on his face. Until, finally, he manages to swear under his breath.]

...shit.

[macchiare]

Mail?

[Her eyes go wide, and she stalks over to him and grabs him by the arm.]

What the fuck, Mail? Where the hell have you been?

[downtothefilter]

[Mail flinches, as he always does, when she grabs his arm. He does manage to screw his expression into one of nonchalance.]

The last time I answered that question you had me put on Risperdal.

[macchiare]

Yeah, and since you brought it up, would you care to explain how you managed your little disappearing act from the hospital?

[She stares a little closer at him, screwing up her face.]

Did you dye your hair again? You know I hate it when you dye it like that, Mail. It looks so trashy.

[choccomello]

...You're not Mel.

[macchiare]

[Blinks]

No, I'm Mihael. Who are you?

[choccomello]

Mello. Are you new?

[ he's not alarmed by her being a girl, as he's spoken with Mel long enough not to mind it. ]

[macchiare]

Sweetie, I'm not new. I built this studio, OK? You following me here? You're in my building. [Peering closer] Without an ID badge, even.

[macchiare]

Nate?

[Her jaw drops a little, and she stares.]

What the hell are you doing here, and what the fuck did you do to your hair?

[macchiare]

You're introducing yourself by your pen name now?

[She sighs, loudly.]

Look, I know the last time we talked, things might've gotten a little heated and all, but you know they say you're not supposed to make any drastic alterations to your appearance when you're emotionally unstable and all. That red ... God, it's a fucking eyesore, I'm sorry.

[reprism]

Well, I suppose logically it's a given that there would be a universe where you can do "professional" out there somewhere.

[reprism]

[confused look.] What? It wasn't an insult.